THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


VARIED  VERSES 


BY 

CARTER  S.  COLE,  M.  D. 


NEW  YORK 
MOFFAT,  YARD  AND  COMPANY 

1921 


COPYRIGHT.     1921.     BY 
MOFFAT.     YARD     AND     COMPANY 


PS 


FOREWORD 

Some  of  these  verses  were  published  in  a 
limited  de  luxe  edition  entitled,  "Lays  and 
Lyrics" ;  and,  of  these,  many  have  been  given 
musical  settings.  Of  those  now  published  for 
the  first  time,  several  have  already  received  a 
musical  interpretation. 

The  German  translations  were  all  done  for 
the  musical  settings  the  poems  had  received 
in  the  original  tongue. 

The  collection  now  presented  may  or  may 
not  be  thought  worth  while  by  the  public;  but 
the  verses  are  the  occasional  outbursts  of  the  dor 
mant  lyrical  impulses  in  a  busy  professional 
life :  perhaps,  they  shall  find  a  sympathetic 
appreciation  in  the  hearts  of  those  who  have 
been  unable  to  give  a  metrical  expression  to 
their  feelings :  in  any  case,  it  is  the  hope  of  the 
writer  that  they  may  add  a  joy  to  the  life  of 
some  one. 

c.  s.  c. 


6021&0 

LIBRARY 


CONTENTS 


OCCASIONAL    OFFERINGS 


Meditation    11 

Solace    12 

A  Snow  Scene 13 

Boating   14 

A  Word   15 

Now  and  Then 15 

A  Problem 16 

En  Passant   16 

Two  Voices   17 

Waiting  17 

Where?    . ...  18 

Amour  sans  Amour 18 

Disappointment    19 

Birthday    19 

An  African  Piano 20 

Human    20 

Shadowland    21 

The  Ring  21 

Sundown   .  .  22 


Aerial   Post    22 

Con  Amore   23 

Sans  Amour 23 

A  Wistful   Wind 23 

Unrest   24 

Glass  Music 24 

Query    25 

Wireless    25 

Risen!  Rejoice 26 

Sweetheart   26 

University  of  Virginia 

(Centenary)    27-28 

The  Path   28 

Dream-Acre    29 

Superlative   30 

Home 30 

Twenty-One   31 

Due  Alma  Lux 31 

An  Ideal  .  .  32 


PLACE    PAINTINGS 


America    35 

Niagara   36 

Lake   Louise    36 

Mirror  Lake  and  Placid. .  37 

A  Sea-Gate  Sunset 38 

Tidings    39 

Amalfi    40 

Capri    41 


The   Colosseum    42 

Belluno    42 

The  Catacombs  of  Sit.  Ce- 

celie    43 

Pompeii    43 

Rigi-Kulm 44 

Sans  Souci  45 

Impromptu 46 


CONTENTS 


PEN    PICTURES 


E.   C 49 

W.  W 49 

A  Boy   49 

A    Crystal    Wedding 50 

Louise    50 

Hidden    51 

L.  G 51 

Jane    51 

Seventy  and  Seven 52-53 

A  Picture   53 

The  Titanic    54-55 

E.  K 56 

Isadorables     56 

J.  C 57 

Sunlight    57 

E.  G 58 

A.  C 58 

R.  B 58 

A   Pastor    59 

Calling    59 

In  Memoriam   60 

A   Voice    60 

The   Song   Sublime. ......  61 

Content    61 

Love-Bloom    62 

The  Harvest  Moon 62 

A   Kiss    63 

Love's   Symphony    63 

Humility   64 

Sea  Gulls   65 

Free   65 

Lost  and  Found 66 

Lost   Love    .67 


Mother  Love  67 

A  Mystery  68 

Love  Light  68 

Above  the  Clouds 69 

Unchanged  69 

Dreaming  70 

A  Golden  Wedding 70 

A  Cross  71 

If  72 

A  Chord  72 

Love's  Message  73 

Tear  Drops  74 

Affinity  75 

Alone  76 

Bohemians  77 

Far  and  Near 78 

Roeanne  (nine  months 

old)  79-80 

Contrast  80 

Heart  Hunger 81 

Asleep  82 

Truth  83 

An  Inspiration  84 

Silence  and  Song 84 

Intuition  85 

The  Struggle  85 

Mon  Desir  86 

Phyllis  (sixteen  months 

old)  86 

Aloft  87 

A  Contralto  87 

A  Song  Writer 88 

Fortunate  .  .  88 


CONTENTS 

FLOWER    FANCIES 

A  Wild  Rose 91      Enthralling    93 

Carnations    91      Violets    93 

Rose-Bloom   92      Pretty  Pansy 94 

The    Poppy    94 

SPRING   SONGS 

A-whispering    97      The  Soft  South  Wind 98 

Expectancy    97      The  Secret   99 

A  Breath  of  Spring 98      A  Robin   99 

The  Blue  Bird 100 

SONG    CYCLES 
Immanuel    103-104-105      Love  Divine  105-106 

WORLD    WAR    WEAVINGS 

The   Conflict    109  Our  Flag   112 

An  Appeal   110  Unafraid    113 

The  Harvest   Ill  The  Tocsin    114 

Wood  and  Iron 112  Chateau  Thierry  115-116 

GLADSOME   GREETINGS 

Fancy    Kind    119  The  Day  122 

A  Whim  119  A   Fear    122 

Awake!   Arise!    120  Ring  the  Bells 123 

A   Love   Word 121  Your   Bit    124 

Old    and    New 121  Golden  Grain 124 

GERMAN    GLEANINGS 

Azure  Eyes    127      After  Heine   129-130 

Brief   Answer    127      Folksong    130 

Do'st   Recall?    128  The  Witch  Song  (Hexen- 

Prophet  and  Poet 128         lied)    131-141 

L'ENVOI  ..142 


OCCASIONAL  OFFERINGS 


MEDITATION 

CO  near  the  busy  throng, 
^  And  yet,  so  still,  along 
The  river  bank  we  strolled, 
Gazing  with  grateful  eyes 
Westward  on  purple  skies, 
Watching  the  tints  of  gold 
And  copper  on  the  clouds 
Fading,  changing  into  blue: 
But  the  idle,  curious  crowds 
Never  looked  and  never  knew 
What  was  going  on  above, 
Never  guessed  the  boundless  love 
That  gave  to  man  the  power  to  see 
Beyond  this  sphere — Infinity — 
But,  soon,  the  veil  of  night 
Shut  out  the  clouds  from  sight. 


[11] 


A  SOLACE 

TMPRESSING  a  kiss 

•*•    On  the  heart  of  a  pink, 

She  gave  it  to  me : 

The  longer  I  think 

Of  the  meaning  of  this, 

The  harder  to  see 

What  the  outcome  must  be ; 

For,  surely  the  flower 

Will  never  consent 

To  part  with  its  prize : 

Nor  am  I  content 

To  give  up  the  dower 

That  dazzled  my  eyes : 

The  plant  itself  dies, 

But  the  kiss  ever  lives ; 

And  the  sweet,  tender  thought 

That  the  maid  had  in  mind, 

Which  my  fancy  then  caught, 

To  my  heart  always  gives 

A  solace,  I  find, 

When  the  Fates  are  unkind ! 


[12J 


A  SNOW  SCENE 

CALLING  the  snow: 
-*•      Writhing  with  pain,  a  woman  cries,- 
The  minutes  seem  eternities; 
Greatest  of  all  events  on  earth 
Impends — another  mortal  soul — 

How  can  it  know 

The  reason  why  ? — is  seeking  birth, 
And  starting  towards  the  common  goal 
That  every  living  thing  must  find: 
Whirling  the  years  go  like  the  wind — 

Why  is  this  so  ? 

Tortuous,  long  and  lone  the  way 
Those  tender  feet  must  tread  each  day, 
Unless  the  spirit  spurns  the  flesh, 
Dreading  the  cares  that  life  enmesh, 

Eager  to  go. 

The  terrors  here,  hereafter  dark, 
Do  not  deter  the  singing  lark; 
The  joy  of  love  and  laughter  lend 
Sweetness  to  life  until  the  end, 

Whether  or  no ! 


[13] 


BOATING 

"P|RIFTING  on  the  dappled  lake, 
-^  Riplets,  rhythmic  messengers 
Tell  the  pebbled  shore ;  our  wake 
Furrows  where  the  mirrored  light 
Dancing  stays,  then  disappears, 
Filling  us  with  keen  delight, 
Floating. 

Dreaming — 

Thinking  only  joy  ahead: 
Never  giving  one  wee  thought 
To  the  morrow — simply  led 
By  our  fancy  fickle,  free, 
Far  afield:  the  truth  is  naught- 
Just  a  passing  phantasy 

Seeming. 

Groping— 

Constantly  in  different  ways 
Seeking  pleasure,  shunning  pain, 
Spending  priceless  nights  and  days 
In  an  endless,  bootless  quest — 
Chasing  phantoms — then,  again 
Burdened  by  our  own  unrest — 

Hoping. 


[14] 


A  WORD 

TN  reverie,  with  eye-lids  closed,  my  mind 
•*•    Neglectful  both  of  space  and  time,  but 

free 

My  hand  to  trace  whatever  message  sought 
Transmission  from  the  spirit  world,  I  prayed 
For  light  upon  the  real  joy  of  life 
As  well  as  on  the  bliss  beyond  the  grave: 
A  silence  dreadful  followed  for  the  while 
No  answer  came;  but,  then,  with  movement 

swift, 

The  fingers  wrote  one  word — and  only  one — 
In  answer  to  my  two  bequests ;  the  page 
Illumined  seemed,  the  mysteries  of  life 
And  death  were  clear,  and  peace  again  upon 
My  senses  fell — my  soul  was  glad;  the  word 
That  made  all  plain,  and  gave  new  hopp  was 

LOVE. 


NOW  AND  THEN 

"W7HAT  can  be  said  to  the  mother  heart 

To  heighten  her  joy  on  earth? 
Whenever  she  looks  at  her  counterpart 
With  luscious,  large  and  laughing  eyes, 
The  sorrows,  trials,  pains  of  birth 
Forgotten  quite,  she  only  heeds 
The  call  of  her  child,  its  creature  needs, 
And  happily  pictures  a  later  day 
When  love  in  completeness  comes  to  stay — 
Who  dares  reckon  its  worth? 

[15] 


EN  PASSANT 

HPHE  hem  of  her  gown  brushed  my  foot 

as  she  passed — 
Oh,  what  a  thrill, 
I  feel  it  still, 

My  heart-beats  tumultous,  brain  in  a  whirl, 
My  breath  short  and  hurried — and  all  for  a 

girl 
The  first  time  I  saw  her,  perhaps  too,  the 

last! 

A  decade  has  gone,  still  I  scan  each  new 

face — 

Hopeless  it  seems, 
And  yet  my  dreams 
Bring  back  by  day  as  well  as  by  night 
Thoughts  of  that  girl   of  whom  I   caught 

sight 
For  a  moment,  and  then  lost  all  trace. 


A  PROBLEM 

A    PROBLEM  difficult,  not  rare, 
•**•      Obtains,  as  all  agree — to  choose 
A  wedding  gift  appropriate 
For  one  we  love.    We  first  must  dare 
The  money  value  quite  to  lose; 
The  tender  thought  should  radiate 
From  anything  we  chance  to  send: 
Untold  the  worth  intent  may  lend 
The  token  from  a  real  friend. 

[16] 


TWO  VOICES 

TTS  plumage  not  full  grown, 

-*-    A  sparrow  chirps,  concealed  by  leaves, 

Persistently  an  hour  or  less, 

When  straight  from  out  the  wilderness 

Another  bird,  swift  flown, 

Appears  and  soon  the  cry  relieves 

By  love  and  tenderness. 

Alas,  how  many  years 

A  human  throat  cries  piteously 

To  all  the  world-indeed,  life-long! 

The  simple  burden  of  its  song, 

So  full  of  scalding  tears, 

To  reach  the  heart  in  sympathy 

To  which  it  must  belong! 


WAITING 

A    TINY  bird,  whose  pulsing  throat 
•£*•  Can  scarce  expel  the  trumpet  note 
Of  joy  that  greets  the  dawn, 
Will  carrol  forth  to  land  and  skies 
The  beauty  of  the  early  morn 
That  human  art  and  speech  defies: 
Its  language  simple,  sweet  and  plain 
To  all,  save  man,  somewhere 
Will  thrill  the  feathered  throng;  again 
Its  message  trilled,  on  air 
Is  borne  to  one  who  waits  until 
The  melody  may  reach  and  fill 
Its  heart,  and  banish  care. 

[17] 


WHERE? 

TTTHERE  is  the  land  of  most  delight? 
We  know  the  limitations  here — 
That  alternating  day  and  night 
Compel  a  change  we  often  fear: 
The  joy  of  love,  so  fleeting,  wakes 
Another  hope  that  almost  makes 
Conviction  strong  that  we  shall  find 
In  time,  the  place  that  knows  no  change, 
Where  human  hearts  are  always  kind, 
And  fancy  has  its  fullest  range; 
Where  nothing  may  the  spirit  bind 
That  seeks  its  freedom:  Am  I  right 
To  say  it  is  the  Infinite? 


AMOUR  SANS  AMOUR 

A    SOUL  by  silence  shriven  long, 
•*"*•     A  heart  denied  its  sweetest  song, 
Would  live  and  throb  if  touched  by  light 
Unseen  for  years:  for  darkest  night 
Replies  with  anguish,  grief,  despair 
In  answer  to  the  daily  prayer. 

And  shall  we  mortals  never  find 
True  happiness  and  peace  of  mind? 
Or,  shall  we  struggle  aimlessly 
Against  the  highest  Heaven's  degree, 
And  rob  ourselves  of  bliss  below, 
Not  knowing  when,  nor  whence  we  go? 

[18] 


BIRTHDAY 

THHERE  are  days  to  recall 
•*•     And  days  to  forget: 
But  the  one  best  of  all 
Was  not  when  we  met — 
For  that  was  ordained — 
But  when  you  were  born! 
The  month  and  the  morn 
Are  quite  simply  explained — 
A  fortuitous  chance, 
If  they  serve  to  enhance 
The  natural  charm 
That  was  yours  from  the  start; 
You  need  feel  no  alarm 
About  age:  till  you  part 
With  your  candor  and  truth, 
You  shall  always  have  youth. 


DISAPPOINTMENT 

T  SAW  a  quill  of  gold  on  high 
•*•    Outlined  upon  an  opal  sky 
Just  as  the  sun  was  going  down 
Resplendent  in  its  nimbus  crown. 

In  vain  I  sought  to  grasp  the  pen 
And  learn  the  message  it  could  give; 
But  while  I  stood  and  looked  again, 
The  cloud  dissolved:   untaught,  I  live. 

[19] 


AN  AFRICAN  PIANO 

A  FRICA  my  mother, 
•*"*•  Jungle-bred   and  wild, 
Never  had  another 
Music  making  child: 
Pine  boards  bound  together, 
With  a  wedge  between, 
Strips  of  steel  the  tether, 
Solid,  curved,  and  lean. 
From  my  face,  endearing, 
Stranger  than  this  tale, 
Melodies  you're  hearing, 
In  a  new-born  scale. 


HUMAN 

•TkESPISED,  outcast, 

A  loathsome  creature  in  the  sight 
Of  what  we  choose  to  call  society 
Her  heart  is  just  as  human:  right 
Appeals,  and  not  alone  propriety: 
Necessity  compels,  but  with  her  choice, 
Convenience  disappears — the  voice 
Of  love  commands ;  and  when  her  tears 
Repentent  reach  the  Mercy  seat, 
And  falling  bathe  the  Saviour's  feet, 
I  cannot  think,  in  spirit  years, 
That  she  shall  find  her  future  lot 
Must  be  with  those  who  are  forgot, 
Despised,  outcast. 

[20] 


SHADOW  LAND 

"W7EAEY  of  work,  too  tired  to  play, 
"     Watching  the  evening  shadows  creep 
Silently,  while  the  light  of  day 
Faded,  and  darkness  encouraged  sleep, 
Fanciful  forms  invaded  my  mind, 
Phantoms  weird  of  many  a  kind 
Beckoned  and  nodded  with  easy  grace, 
Ceaselessly  calling  the  worn  out  heart 
Back  to  the  shadow-land,  restful  place 
Whither  they  went,  no  more  to  depart. 


THE  RING 

there  was  a  maiden  fair, 
Gracious,  charming,  debonair, 
Always  by  tradition  taught 
Love,  like  vestments,  could  be  bought; 
That  affection,  faith,  respect, 
Wealth  compelled;  that  fools  expect 
Sentiment:  and  need  I  tell 
That  she  learned  her  lesson  well? 

Twenty  years  elapsed,  and  then, 
Gazing  on  her  face  again, 
Wife  and  mother,  wealth  I  saw; 
But  apparent  was  some  flaw 
In  her  happiness — the  ring 
Had  not  meant  the  real  thing: 
Love  neglected  gnawed  her  heart, 
While  she  tried  to  play  the  part. 


[21] 


SUNDOWN 

T  KISSED  her  as  the  sun  went  down 

-*-    Behind  the  mountains  in  the  West: 

A  stillness  settled  on  the  land; 

The  afterglow  of  gold  and  brown 

Illumined  every  sheltered  nest, 

Before  the  night  could  lay  its  hand 

Of  darkness  over  all:  her  eyes, 

With  sapphire  tinged,  enthralled  my  heart; 

The  simple,  sacred  silence  said 

This  vital  thought:  The  daylight  dies, 

But  love  alone,  the  better  part 

Of  life,  survives  when  we  are  dead. 


AERIAL   POST 

A  BOVE  the  earth,  on  high, 
••*"*•  The  wings  of  man,  by  air 
Supported  in  the  sky, 
With  reckless  haste  will  dare 
To  speed  these  lines :  must  not 
A  happy,  future  lot 
And  path  to  wealth  and  fame 
As  unimpeded  wait 
The  earnest  artist?  Fate 
Cannot  ignore  the  name 
To  which  the  Gods  are  kind 
And  send  a  favoring  wind! 


[22] 


SANS  AMOUR 

A  LWAYS  deprived  of  one  who  knows 
•**•  How,  in  the  hour  of  need  and  grief- 
Frequent,  alas!  but  rare  the  relief — 
Comfort  and  peace  to  find  and  give, 
When  the  desire  to  die — not  live — 
Stronger  and  strangely  grows 
Irresistible — such  is  the  lot 
Waiting  for  one  who  knows  love  not. 

CON  AMORE 

tWERY  joy  of  life  to  find, 

Sharing  with  one  who  understands 
What  the  innermost  heart  demands, 
Reaping  a  harvest  of  pleasure  here, 
Poisoned  by  neither  regret  nor  fear, 
Full  of  affection  for  all  mankind — 
Such  is  the  natural,  normal  state 
When  we  have  found  love,  soon  or  late. 


A  WISTFUL  WIND 

"1/TY  spirit  sought  a  kindred  soul  to  find, 
And  on  the  circumambient  ether  rode 
A  furious  race,  and  reached  the  far  abode 
Of  one  who  understood:  a  wistful  wind, 
Laden  with  scent  of  lotus  bloom, 
Kissed  two  long-lashed  lids,  and  then, 
Whispered  my  secret  in  sweet  perfume, 
But  never  returned  to  me  again. 

[23] 


UNREST 

TV7HAT  means  this  spirit  of  unrest 

**     That  frets  my  soul,  unwelcome  guest? 
The  joys  of  life  that  others  know, 
To  me  are  but  a  picture  show; 
The  music  of  the  master  minds 
Within  my  heart  a  welcome  finds, 
But  fails  to  bring  the  long  sought  calm 
That  never  knows  the  slightest  qualm: 
My  friends  are  kind,  and,  yet,  I  feel 
A  wound  that  kindness  may  not  heal, 
A  longing  for  another  heart 
That  must  have  been  of  mine  a  part: 
Perhaps,  we  only  find  above 
That  perfect  peace — a  perfect  love. 


GLASS  MUSIC 

TTE  sang  from  the  empty  glasses  to  me, 
*-  Touching   their   rims    with    his    finger 

tips, 

And  brought  into  life  such  a  harmony 
As  never   could  come   from   the  quivering 
lips. 

Was  it  the  music  from  nature's  shrine, 
Stored  in  the  sand  for  a  furnace  blaze 
To  change  to  a  vibrant  chord  divine 
When  the  hand  of  the  loving  master  plays? 

[24] 


QUERY 

W/"HAT  is  the  meaning  of  valentine? 
**     Once  in  a  year  there  comes  the  day 
Allotted  to  those  who  are  moved  to  say 
The  thing  that  lies  nearest  their  hearts; 
And  so  I  am  tempted,  before  it  departs, 
To  tell  you  what  lingers  in  mine : 
That,  despite  the  fact  we  have  often  met, 
The  word  I  would  utter  and  may  not  forget, 
Refuses  to  come  when  I  try  to  speak: 
My  courage  falters,  my  heart  grows  weak — 
But  the  truth  is  revealed  in  this  line! 


WIRELESS 

^AIR-HAIRED  faery, 

-*•      Fickle,  wary, 

Caught  and  calmed  by  needful  sleep, 

Are  your  fancies 

Born  of  glances 

From  a  mother's  vigil  deep. 

Restless,  tireless, 

Human  wireless, 

When  awake,  a  joy  untold, 

Dreams  refreshing, 

Love  enmeshing, 

Tenderly  your  heart  enfold! 


[25] 


SWEETHEART 

OWEETHEART— of     all— the     word     su- 
^    preme ! 

Each  time  I  hear  it  when  I  dream 
The  face  of  one  alone  appears: 
Throbbing  my  temples,  hot  the  tears 
That  blurred  my  sight  these  many  years 
That  failed  to  make  my  dreams  come  true 
And  give  the  love  my  fancy  knew. 

Over  the  boundary  line  between 
This  life  and  that  in  worlds  unseen, 
They  may  not  speak  nor  see  nor  hear — 
Still  in  my  heart  one  thing  seems  clear, 
That  if  by  chance  your  soul  be  near, 
Some  other  sense  will  rend  the  mist 
That  filched  from  love  on  earth  its  tryst. 


I 


RISEN!   REJOICE! 

HEAR  a  distant  voice 
Of  prophecy  that  says, 
"Peace,  prosperity  always!" 
At  last  the  shackles  fall 
And  free  the  soul:  the  pall 
Of  silence  yields,  the  strain 
Of  songs  inspired,  again, 
Delights  the  listening  ear, 
And  many  a  grateful  tear 
Fallen:  Rejoice! 

[26] 


UNIVERSITY  OF  VIRGINIA  (Centenary) 

A    CENTURY— a  puissant  span— 
**•  Has  proved  the  wisdom  of  the  man 
Whose     brain     conceived     the     trenchant 

thought 

To  give  untrammeled  knowledge  brought 
From  every  source  to  eager  youth: 
That  naught  might  dim  eternal  truth, 
Unprejudiced  each  heart  to  see 
The  creed  that  spelled  eternity: 
It  was  not  deemed  a  hopeless  plight 
To  want  revealed  religious  sight: 
The  soul  of  every  one  was  free 
To  fashion  its  own  Deity, 
To  sound  the  depths  or  search  the  skies 
For  forms  Infinity  supplies — 
Innumerable,  weird  and  strange, 
But  never  subject  to  the  change 
That  is  the  fate  of  human  kind, 
The  product  of  the  mortal  mind. 
Transcendant  was  the  precious  star 
That  shone  for  all  both  near  and  far 
Called  Honour:  never  corner  stone 
On  which  to  build  a  regal  throne 
More  wisely  chosen.     Tell  we  must 
How  faith  was  justified:  the  trust 
Was  not  misplaced;  and  from  these  walls 
The  spirit  honest  met  the  calls 
Of  duty  unafraid  these  years 
Gone  by:  the  future  holds  no  fears: 


[27] 


Our  Alma  Mater  is  the  light 

That  never  fails:  that  guides  aright 

The  heart  and  brain:  her  colonades, 

With  memories  of  ten  decades, 

Her  sons  and  daughters  shall  inspire 

To  seek  and  find  celestial  fire: 

Her  field  the  world!    Hold  up  her  hands 

To  guide  the  youth  of  many  lands! 


THE  PATH 

TTPON  the  path  by  roses  lined 

*-J    In  fancy  tread  my  willing  feet: 

The  breeze  through  branches  intertwined 

Continually  makes  music  sweet; 

And  fire-flies  fitfully  at  night 

Emit  their  tiny,  transient  flare — 

A  challenge  to  the  twinkling  light 

Of  orbs  celestial :  the  care 

That  harries  hearts  and  hurries  age 

To  sound  its  note  can  find  no  tongue: 

Instead,  the  birds  in  nature's  cage, 

Before  the  dawn,  the  trees  among, 

Are  carolling  their  peerless  lays 

To  rouse  the  world  from  sleep  and  bring 

The  joy  they  know  and  feel  always 

To  every  sentient,  mortal  thing; 

And  peace  perpetual  pervades 

The  rose-lined  path  with  perfumed  shades. 

[28] 


DREAM-ACRE 

years  were  long, 
The  road  was  hard, 
But  neither  made  me  doubt  my  Maker; 
And  now  with  song 
A  nature  bard 
Salutes  the  morn  in  my  dream-acre. 

The  river  clear 

In  full  view  lies 

While  on  its  surface  dance  the  sun-beams; 

The  blue  jay  near 

With  clarion  cries 

Diverts  the  channels  of  my  day-dreams. 

The  beechwood  trees 

Majestic  stand 

Around  my  home  above  the  valley: 

With  melodies 

Untutored,  grand 

Their  branches  throb  continually. 

My  wishes  now 

Are  few — that  long 

The  years  may  last:  that  not  a  breaker 

May  fate  allow 

To  mar  the  song 

Of  birds  that  nest  in  my  dream-acre. 


[29] 


HOME 

TjjTHEN  are  you  coming  home  cherie 

**  The  place  where  your  heart  is  at  peace ? 
Already  it  seems  an  eternity 
Since  longings  and  yearnings  should  cease: 
On  every  mile  of  the  road  for  years 
The  guide-post  that  pointed  the  way 
Displayed  the  same  message:  "A  love  that 

endears 

Awaits  your  home-coming  to-day." 
What  has  life  to  offset  its  numerous  woes, 
Its  worries,  burdens  and  pains, 
Unless  it  be  Love — which  every  one  knows 
Is  the  Heaven  on  earth  God  ordains. 


SUPERLATIVE 

TT7HEN  a  heart  by  error  tried 

**     Has  a  feeling  desolate, 
Knowing  from  the  voice  inside 
That  on  love  and  not  on  fate 
Hangs  the  happiness  of  life — 
Still  it  may  by  faith  assured 
Learn  that  from  the  storms  and  strife, 
Constantly  by  all  endured, 
Comes  the  bliss  superlative 
When  the  kindred  soul  is  found, 
Making  us  forget  the  wound: 
Then  forever  we  would  live. 


[30] 


TWENTY-ONE 

rpWENTY-ONE, 

•*•  Life  begun; 
Play  diminished: 
College  finished, 

Still,  the  world  is  full  of  pleasure, 
Heightened  now  and  then  by  sorrow: 
In  the  mind  is  found  the  measure 
Making  welcome  each  to-morrow: 
In  the  heart  the  richest  treasure 
Of  this  life  is  safely  guarded 
By  a  perfect  intuition; 
Heed  its  warning,  be  rewarded 
By  the  joys  of  love's  fruition: 

Wisdom  slowly 

Comes,  but  surely 

Smiles  upon 

Twenty-one. 


DUG  ALMA  LUX 

HPHAT  when  the  cross  I  see 
A     I  know  that  faith  for  me 
Has  made  life  sweet: 

That  on  my  earthly  way 
Thy  never  failing  ray 
Must  guide  my  feet: 

That  with  these  mortal  eyes 
My  view  of  Paradise 
May  be  complete — 
Due  alma  lux! 


[31] 


AN  IDEAL 

"V7"OU  have  heard  from  the  strings 

Of  a  fine  violin  many  wonderful  things; 

But  they  cannot  begin  to  compare  with  the 
voice 

Of  the  one  whom  you  love, 

When  she  says  that  your  choice 

Has  brought  peace,  like  the  dove. 

Though  an  artist  may  paint 

With  remarkable  grace  and  the  charms  of  a 

saint, 
Without    having    a    trace    of    the    human 

remain ; 

Still,  the  composite  whole 
Of  the  thought  in  his  brain 
Must  be  limned  by  the  soul. 

All  the  beauties  of  art 

And  the  wonders  of  God,  to  a  soulless  heart 

Are  no  more  than  the  sod;  but  the  mind, 

keen  and  bright 
With  divine  inspiration, 
Knows  the  wonderful  sight 
In  the  simplest  creation. 


[32] 


PLACE  PAINTINGS 


AMERICA 

T  AND  of  the  West, 
^    Hope  of  the  free — 
America! 

All  that  is  best, 
God  gaveth  thee. 

Refuge  to  all, 
Bound  by  no  creed, 

America ! 
You  heed  the  call 
Where  there  is  need. 

Mountains  and  plains, 
Ore-filled  and  fair, 

America! 

Sunshine  and  rains, 
Riches  to  spare. 

Varied  the  soil, 
Bracing  the  air, 

America! 
Happy  the  toil, 
Peace  everywhere. 

Time  lays  its  hand 
Gently  on  thee, 

America! 
Favored  the  land, 
Home  of  the  free! 


[35] 


NIAGARA 

"JVTO  simple  words  of  man  may  tell 
^    The  wonder  seen,  then  known  so  well, 
The  roar  majestic,  rich  and  deep 
That  thrills,  awake,  or  lulls,  asleep; 
The  fleecy,  floating,  cooling  mist 
By  rain-bows  daily,  nightly  kissed; 
The  waters  turbulent  below 
With  froth  and  foam  and  undertow— 
A  swirling,  seething,  whirling  force 
Forever  on  its  hurried  course; 
The  chasm  riven  from  solid  stone 
While  many  centuries  have  flown: 
The  Infinite  has  lain  its  hand 
Upon  the  waters  and  the  land! 

LAKE  LOUISE 
paradise  in  regions  wild 
The  North  provides  an  open  gate: 
Towards  the  South,  a  real  thrill 
Enchants  the  heart — the  glaciers  great, 
With  snow  incalculable  piled 
Upon  a  mountain  higher  still: 
A  turquoise  blue  and  green  the  lake: 
On  either  side,  a  mountain  lifts 
Enormous  stones  to  zero  heights, 
On  which  to  hoard  the  mighty  drifts 
Perpetual  and  pure  that  make 
The  rills  of  ribbon-white  upon 
Their  unsealed  sides:  the  shifting  lights 
Will  soon  reveal,  the  search  begun, 
Fantastic  colors — precious  gifts — 
And  flowers  abundant,  plants  and  trees 
Enhance  the  charms  of  Lake  Louise. 
[36] 


MIRROR  LAKE  AND  PLACID 

T^NCIRCLED  by  a  purple  chain 

•*-J    Of  monuments  eternal,  lies 

The  lake,  a  mirror,  cool  and  still, 

That  sees  each  cloud  and  from  each  hill 

Reflects  the  pines  till  daylight  dies: 

The  wood-thrush,  even  in  the  rain, 

Will  whistle  early  in  the  morn; 

The  wood-peewee,  with  sad  cadence, 

From  bough  or  bush  or  rustic  fence, 

At  noon  directs  the  errant  birds 

To  seek  their  mates  and  find  their  nests, 

In  language  just  as  plain  as  words; 

The  robins  strut  and  search  the  lawn 

For  worms  and  bugs,  their  russet  breasts 

Expanding  with  the  frequent  note 

Emitted  by  a  pulsing  throat. 

Contiguous  is  Placid  Lake, 

In  which  the  mountains  bathe  their  feet; 

And  when  the  snow-white  clouds,  so  fleet, 

Have  kissed  and  clung  to  tops  and  sides, 

And  with  reluctance  rise  to  slake 

The  thirst  of  loftier  spots,  abides 

The  dew  upon  the  Sentinels 

That  bar  it  from  a  timid  guest: 

But  if  the  world  one  can  forsake, 

The  virgin  forest  sings  and  tells 

Of  peace  and  beauty,  joy  and  rest. 


[37] 


A  SEA-GATE  SUNSET 

TJEHIND  the  harbor  hills  and  far  beyond, 
•*-*   The  setting  sun,  with  varied  hues,  had 

kissed 
The   willing   clouds,    and   in   the   wondrous 

West, 

A  purple  haze  enmeshed  with  filmy  veil 
The  tortuous  shore  and  highlands  overhung: 
The  bay  unruffled,  save  some  spots  a  breeze 
Its  cooling  breath  had  spent,  while  overhead, 
With  tendrils  crescent  reaching  out,  a  new 
Mysterious  moon,  its  silver  light  so  soft, 
Had  almost  grasped  the  pendant  Venus  near 
To  use  it  for  her  diadem,  when  night 
Enveloped  all,  and  myriad  stars  appeared 
To  gem  the  sky:  the  silver  changed  to  gold, 
And  swiftly  raced  the  evening  star  ahead 
To  shed  its  diamond  rays  upon  a  world 
Unknown:  Selene  followed  soon,  and  stars 
Were  left  to  pale  before  the  Master-light. 


[38] 


TIDINGS 

T  SAW  a  charming  cottage  near  the  sea, 
A  A  spot  for  perfect  peace  and  joy  to  reign : 
The  world  was  scarce  a  faded  memory, 
So  far  removed  its  worries,  cares  and  pain. 

A  cactus,  palm,  or  any  southern  flower, 
A  welcome  finds  and  unrestricted  grows: 
The  vines  entwining  make  a  shady  bower 
To  whisper  love  before  the  daylight  goes. 

Around  are  hills  with  brush   and  verdant 

trees, 
Relieved   by   streaks   of   white   and   yellow 

sand, 
And   through   the    Golden    Gate   a   cooling 

breeze 
Brings  tidings  from  a  far-off  foreign  land. 


[39] 


AMALFI 

A  MALFI  beckons  me,  I  feel 
•**•  The  balmy  air,  the  mystic  spell 
Of  peace  upon  my  senses  steal — 
The  peace  the  monks  had  learned  so  well; 
Their  home  upon  the  mountain  side 
Of  solid  stone,  so  strongly  wrought, 
Remains:  the  colonade,  its  pride, 
With  fruitful  vines,  is  quickly  sought, 
Although  from  every  point  is  seen 
The  lavish  hand  of  nature  when 
It  gave  such  vegetation  green 
And  cloisters  quaint  to  godly  men: 
Above,  the  mountains  and  the  sky; 
Below,  the  water,  purple,  bright, 
Upon  whose  riplets  constantly 
The  playful  sunbeams  sparkle  light 
Like  myriad,  priceless  gems:  at  night, 
The  moon  a  silver  wake  provides; 
And  undisturbed  the  shore  by  tides, 
A  welcome  tends  and  seems  to  say, 
"The  quest  is  over:  rest,  and  pray!" 


[40] 


CAPRI 

A    BEAUTIFUL  island  that  all  may  see 
"  Stands  guard  near  the  main-land  in  far 

Italy; 

It  is  rugged  and  small,  but  prolific  and  fair, 
And  its  people  rejoice  in  their  freedom  from 
care. 

The  waters  of  purple  delight  from  its  shore 
To  borrow  some  tokens,  but  covet  still  more 
Of  its  soil,  and  have  burrowed  one  side 
For  a  grotto,  all  blue,  to  be  seen  at  low  tide. 

Sorrento  is  seen  as  we  look  on  the  coast; 
And  standing  alone,  like  a  ghoul  or  a  ghost, 
With  a  tongue  touched  by  flame  from  its 

uplifted  head, 
Vesuvius  watches  its  multitude — dead! 

Between  lies  that  wonderful  changing  sea, 
So  rich  in  its  tints,  then  again  so  free 
From  all   purple   and   green — just   a   large 

sheet  of  glass, 
A  quiet,  transparent  and  colorless  mass. 

A  daily  delightful  event  for  the  eye 
Is  the  sun  as  it  sets  in  the  Western  sky, 
With  a  prodigal  waste  of  its  silver  and  gold, 
Producing  a  picture  of  beauty  untold. 

Need  I  tell  you  the  name  of  this  marvelous 

isle 
So  diminutive — great  notwithstanding?     A 

smile 

Is  your  answer:  the  truth,  then,  must  be 
You  know  it — yes,  love  it — the  isle  of  Capri. 

[41] 


THE  COLOSSEUM 

night  was  clear: 
The  moon  with  borrowed  light 
Looked  down  upon  the  ruins  grand 
Where  oft  before,  two  thousand  years 
And  more,  from  every  heathen  land, 
The  gladiators  trained  to  fight, 
Had  crossed  their  fatal  spears; 
Where  Christians  tortured,  turned 
A  welcome  ear 

To  beasts  more  kind  than  men — 
Wild  beasts  whose  roaring  advent  brought 
Relief  for  which  their  victims  yearned 
So  long,  and  vainly  sought — 
The  perfect  peace  eternal  when, 
Unchained,  unmoved  by  tears, 
The  Spirit  makes  its  flight 
Beyond  this  sphere. 

BELLUNO 

TTIGH  in  the  clouds, 
"  But  higher  still  the  jagged  cliffs 
That  circle — some  with  snow-capped  peaks — 
Belluno,  ancient,  Alpine  town: 
Fretted  the  shrouds 
Of  ragged  turrets  making  rifts 
For  air  so  pure  and  light  that  speaks 
A  message  heavenly  coming  down. 
Your  fortress  builded  by  a  hand 
Supreme,  forever  shall  defy 
Assaults  of  every  kind:  the  land 
Is  blessed  that  almost  joins  the  sky. 


CATACOMBS  OF  SAINT  CECELIE 

A    TINY  taper  lights  the  way 
•**•  To  tortuous  paths  beneath  the  sod, 
Where  Christians  in  an  evil  day 
Could  supplicate  their  unseen  God. 

Within  this  city,  underground, 
Concealed  a  thousand  years,  remains 
Of  martyrs  young  and  old  were  found, 
Forever  freed  from  mortal  pains. 

Their  patron  saint,  the  story  goes, 
Was  buried  here  four  hundred  years 
Unchanged:  and  since,  the  whole  world 

knows 
Her  name  protects  these  tombs  of  tears. 


POMPEII 

CILENT  city  of  the  dead, 
^     Lost  for  centuries,  then  found, 
Why  was  your  defenseless  head 
Chosen  for  a  funeral  mound? 
Whither  did  your  people  flee? 
Were  they  buried  by  the  dust? 
Did  they  rush  into  the  sea 
Seeking  shelter  where  they  must? 
Why  were  some  by  lava  chained, 
Seemingly  to  danger  dumb? 
These  alone  have  still  remained, 
Calcified  for  years  to  come. 

[43] 


RIGI-KULM 

sun  above,  the  sea  below— 
A  sea  of  fog,  like  driven  snow, 
Enveloping  the  lakes  and  hills 
And  lower  peaks  against  their  wills: 
As  far  as  eye  can  see  around 
The  Alps  majestic,  some  snow-bound, 
And  glaciers,  too,  the  sun  defy, 
But  warm  the  earth  on  which  they  lie 
And  keep  secure  their  rugged  tops 
From  life  or  any  kind  of  crops, 
Except  the  ones  they  hold  and  hide 
Beneath  their  massive  weight.     The  tide 
Of  time  and  cares  of  men  below, 
Cannot  disturb  nor  change  the  glow 
Of  sunrise  and  of  sunset  grand, 
In  this  enchanted,  lofty  land: 
The  rainbow  colors  kiss  good-night 
Each  snow-bound  crest,  and  with  the  light 
At  early  morn,  rejoice  to  stay 
A  moment;  then,  compelled,  they  stray 
To  pastures  green  and  haunts  of  men, 
But  know  they  can  return  again 
To  peace  and  quiet,  where  the  blue 
Of  Heaven's  vault  shall  veil  anew 
The  craigs  and  peaks  so  high  in  air, 
Committed  to  the  Master's  care. 


[44] 


lions  done  in  marble  white 
Command  the  terrace  day  and  night 
On  which  a  palace,  silent,  stands: 
Magnolia  blossoms  fill  the  air 
With  odors  luscious  everywhere; 
Abundant,  trained  by  many  hands, 
The  flowers;  fountains  small  and  great, 
And  virgin  trees,  the  gift  of  God, 
Whose  fulsome  tops  with  music  nod 
To  every  breeze,  insatiate: 
A  pheasant  frivols  fearlessly, 
And  many  a  bird  delights  to  bring 
Its  chosen  mate  and  breed  and  sing 
In  this  entrancing  Arcady. 
The  quiet  waters  in  the  lakes 
Invite  the  snowy  plumaged  birds 
To  stay  their  flight:  and  wakes 
The  day  to  hear  the  lillies  words, 
And  hum  of  happy,  busy  bees 
That  rifle  blooms  of  plants  and  trees 
To  satisfy  a  short-lived  queen 
In  Sans  Souci,  forever  green. 


[45] 


IMPROMPTU 

T  MAY  not  guess  your  native  state, 

-*•    Nor  whence  you  wandered  to  this  clime, 

But  this  I  know,  some  special  fate 

Together  brings  us  at  this  time. 

I  cannot  classify  your  voice 

As  from  the  East,  or  North,  or  West; 

And  though  I  dare  not  tell  my  choice, 

It  finds  an  echo  in  my  breast. 

My  heart  would  place  it  in  the  South, 

Despite  the  accident  of  birth, 

Because  one  word,  from  such  a  mouth, 

Can  make  a  Heaven  of  this  earth. 


[46] 


PEN  PICTURES 


E.  C. 

TTIS  voice  sublime 

Will  swell  the  choir  celestial  where 
The  angels  happy  hasten  him 
On  pinions  poised,  surpassing  fair : 
And  while,  their  eyes  with  weeping  dim, 
The  countless  thousands  here  bemoan 
Their  loss,  they  feel  that  they  have  heard 
The  one  supreme  in  song  and  known 
The  heart  to  peoples  all  endeared 
For  endless  time. 

W.  W. 

TTE  was  opposed  to  war — 

•*--*-  Why  not? — and,  yet,  the  call 

Of  liberty  afar 

He  heard,  and  with  a  wall 

Of  human  force  the  sway 

Of  kings  destroyed — and  then 
Disclosed  the  cryptic  way 
That  lead  to  peace  again. 

A  BOY! 
A    BOY! 

^*-  To  live  with  him  a  second  life, 
And  watch  his  growth  in  coming  years, 
To  shield  him  from  the  storm  and  strife 
That  causes  mortals  many  tears: 
A  vista  long  of  happiness 
Your  love  and  tenderness  must  bless. 
What  joy! 

[49] 


A  CRYSTAL  WEDDING 


TflFTEEN  years,  no  less,  no  more: 
-*•  Happy? — Surely,  else  the  score 
Would  have  been  long  since  erased 
And  another  made  in  haste. 


Crystal  is  a  fitting  term, 
Suited  to  conditions  firm, 
Crystalized  by  hopes  and  fears 
Shared  by  two,  so  many  years. 

May  your  golden  wedding  find 
Both  in  health  and  of  one  mind; 
Then  the  life  upon  this  earth 
Makes  you  seek  a  second  birth. 


LOUISE 

T^EEN  for  the  strife, 
•^  Full  of  the  joy  of  doing, 
Ready  for  work  or  wooing, 
Hearing  the  best,  and  singing 
Melodies,  haunting  clinging, 
Pulsing  with  life, 

Surely  this   earth 
Gives  you  its  richest  treasure, 
Health,  and  in  fullest  measure 
Yours  is  the  obligation: 
What  is  your  aspiration? 

What  is  it  worth? 


[50] 


L.  G. 

T1J7ITH  fingers  frail  he  stroked  his  beard; 
**  And  from  his  spacious  chest  was  heard 
A  voice  of  beauty,  depth  and  power 
As  iridescent  as  a  flower, 
That  seemed  to  loose  a  secret  well 
Of  pleasure  hidden  in  my  heart: 
But  who  may  dare  or  hope  to  tell 
The  wonder  of  consummate  art? 

HIDDEN 

A    DAUGHTER  nine  days  old! 

**•  The  mother  truly  wise 
To  keep  the  great  surprise 
Securely  hidden  in  her  heart, 
And  dance  until  the  morning  light 
As  easily  as  any  sprite 
Untrammeled  by  domestic  art; 
But  truth  a-laughing  lies 
Upon  her  breast  with  eyes 
Of  blue  and  hair  of  gold! 

JANE 

me  maid  with  violet  eyes 
Why  my  soul  knows  such  unrest: 
Does  emotion  or  surprise 
Cause  this  choking  in  my  breast? 

Do  you  know  your  subtle  charm? 
Let  me  warn  you:  have  a  care 
Lest  the  heart  may  suffer  harm 
When  it  hides  your  image  there! 

[51] 


SEVENTY  AND  SEVEN 

rpOOTHLESS  the  two, 
-*-     And  scanty  their  hair: 
The  one,  a  silver  grey, 
The  other,  in  its  way, 
Almost  a  gold;  the  pair, 
Dove-like,  would  coo 
And  kiss,  heedless 
Of  the  gaping  crowd, 
Laughing  aloud 
Happily,  needless. 
Seventy  years  and  more 
With  blighting  touch 
On  one:  the  other  much 
Younger  than  a  year, 
Clinging  to  the  door 
Of  life  with  many  a  tear, 
And  sometimes  with  a  smile. 
For  one,  so  much  ahead, 
The  other,  waiting  while 
The  certain  call  would  wed 
The  Future  and  the  Past — 
So  much  for  her  behind, 
And  yet,  so  little  when 
Compared  to  life  again, 
Forever  said  to  last, 
Although  no  finite  mind 
Foresees  the  hour.    It  seems 
The  veil  is  always  drawn, 
We  may  not  know  the  morn 
Here  or  hereafter.     Dreams 
Trouble  us  asleep — awake, 


[52] 


They  still  perplex,  because 
Our  disappointments  take 
Away  ambition;  then  we  pause, 
Dreading  to  dream  again, 
Knowing  the  joy — the  pain! 


A  PICTURE 

A    PICTURE  daily  looks  at  me— 
•^  Indeed,  its  gaze  attracts  and  halts 
Whoever  comes  within  its  range: 
A  message  in  the  face  I  see, 
A  fancy  musical  and  free, 
Enkindling  in  my  brain  a  strange 
Commotion,  while  its  charm  assaults 
The  fortress  of  my  heart,  so  long 
Impregnable — till  now,  so  strong. 
Can  others  read  the  wonders  there, 
The  wistful  eyes,  the  soft  grey  hair, 
The  peace  that  surely  finds  a  place 
In  such  a  calm  and  trusting  face; 
The  thoughts  that  come  from  fairyland 
And  give  a  joy  before  unknown, 
The  melodies  so  richly  sown 
With  harmonies  by  magic  hand? 
At  least,  in  future  years,  the  day 
Can  come  when  every  little  child 
May  hear  and  learn  those  motifs  new; 
And  then,  perhaps,  some  one  shall  say, 
The  poet  in  his  simple  way 
Has  reached  the  multitude  through  you 
With  themes  that  cannot  be  defiled. 

[53] 


THE  TITANIC 

of  her  builders,  queen  of  the  seas, 
Flaunting  her  pennants  to  every  breeze, 
Swift  as  a  gull  in  its  over-sea  flight, 
Sailed  the  Titanic,  supreme  in  her  nlight. 

Deep  in  her  hold  were  the  priceless  stores 
Destined  for  traffic  on  distant  shores; 
High   on   her   decks   were   the    staterooms 

grand, 
Filled  with  the  flower  of  many  a  land. 

Luxury  such  as  had  never  been  seen, 
Furnishings  rich  in  gold  and  green: 
Dining  and  dancing  the  pastimes  at  night, 
Full  in  the  glare  of  the  dynamos  light. 

Feeling  secure  on  this  mammoth,  the  sleep 
Seemed  to  refresh  as  she  sped  o'er  the  deep ; 
Early  the  air  was  instilled  with  sea-brine, 
Bringing  new  life  and  a  message  divine. 

Lashing  the  waves  as  they  lapped  at  her 

prow, 
Bridging  the  troughs  of  the  sea,  stern  and 

bow, 

Haughtily  tossing  the  spray  high  in  air, 
Saucily  speeding,  with  never  a  care, 
"Mistress,"  she  said,  "of  the  waters  am  I: 
Never  before  has  the  land  or  the  sky 
Known  such  control  as  I  hold  of  the  sea — 
Strong  and  unsinkable — marvel  at  ME!" 

[54] 


Calm   was   the   night   when   the  sea   made 

reply : 

Dusky,  an  object  that  towered  on  high 
Quietly  rode  on  the  breast  of  the  waves, 
Bringing  for  heroes  their  shrouds  and  their 

graves. 

Scarce   had   the   watch   in   the   crow's-nest 

lashed 
Shouted,    "An    iceberg    ahead!"    when    it 

crashed 

Full  against  the  starboard  side, 
Tearing  steel-plates  far  and  wide, 
Forcing  water  fast  and  cold 
On  the  engines  in  the  hold, 
Quenching  fires  and  drenching  men 
Trapped  like  wild-beasts  in  a  den. 
From  the  mizzenmast  on  high, 
Wireless  word  of  help  near-by, 
Reassured  and  promised  aid — 
Why  should  any  be  afraid? 

Starboard  and  forward,  a  list  and  a  dip 
Told  of  the  danger  that  threatened  the  ship : 
Lifeboats  were  ordered — the  jesters  were 

stilled— 
All  with  a  feeling  of  horror  were  filled. 

Hearts    that    are    bleeding    in    grief    and 

despair, 

Know  that  the  nations  of  earth  everywhere 
Honor  these  men  and  with  pride  read  the 

roll- 
Greater  no  love  than  when  death  is  its  toll! 

[55] 


ISADORABLES 

/^LIDING    with    rhythmical    movements, 
^"  free 

As  the  birds  when  they  frolic  in  air, 
Dancing  and  racing  so  merrily — 
Strangers  to  sorrow,  they  have  no  care — 
Waving  like  grasses  swept  by  the  wind, 
With  little  to  hinder  and  nothing  to  bind, 
Surely  their  motion  is  poetry! 

Even  entrancing  at  rest,  to  the  eye, 
Because  of  the  art  in  their  pose: 
Gracefully  tilting  their  palms  on  high, 
Balanced  with  ease  on  their  naked  toes, 
Instantly  grasping  some  subtle  sign 
From  their  priestess  to  alter  a  curve  or  a 

line — 
When  will  she  teach  them  to  fly? 


E.  K. 

/^OD-GIVEN  the  power 

^"  To  draw  the  bow! 

A  tender  flower 

May  never  know 

The  joy  it  gives: 

An  artist  lives, 

Not  only  once,  but  when 

The  memory  again 

Recalls  the  art:  know  then 

The  debt  you  owe 

To  such  a  dower. 

[56] 


SUNLIGHT 

A    RAY  of  sun  upon  the  face 
"  Had  almost  made  the  picture  speak: 
And  as  I  pondered  on  the  grace 
And  charm  of  her  I  knew  so  well, 
On  whom  the  busy  sunbeam  fell, 
I  could  not  chide  the  ray  of  light 
For  being  spell-bound  by  the  sight, 
And  nestling  closer  to  her  cheek. 

Oh!  favored  sunlight,  happy  one 

To  daily  visit  all  mankind, 

And  often,  ere  your  task  is  done, 

With  warmth  and  love  some  heart  caress 

That  grieves  or  lives  in  bitterness — 

It,  surely,  cannot  be  amiss 

To  pause  and  press  one  fleeting  kiss 

Upon  the  fairest  face  you  find! 


J.  C. 

T  HEARD  a  voice  from  a  faraway  land 
-*-    That  welled  with  the  love  of  the  song: 
I  feared  lest  the  world  might  not  under 
stand, 

So  I  sought  the  singer,  to  grasp  her  hand, 
And  tell  her  I  knew;  that  so  long 
Would  those  tones  be  golden,  and  deathless 

the  art, 

As   they   sprang  from   the   depths   of   the 
human  heart. 

[57] 


A.C. 

TJjTlTH  lavish  hand  the  Deity 

"     Expended  many  gifts  on  thee: 
But  do  you  know  that  in  your  voice 
That  hurries  every  heart  that  hears 
And  makes  the  soul  though  sad  rejoice 
There  lies  down  deep  a  font  of  tears? 
Its  echoes  ringing  cannot  find 
The  words  to  tell  them — but  the  wind 
Will  blend  them  with  the  nature  notes 
That  spring  from  many  feathered  throats: 
Long,  cherish,  guard  this  priceless  thing 
And  comfort  hearts  awearying! 

E.  G. 

many  years  his  blighted  eyes 
Have  tried  in  vain  to  see  sunrise; 
But  through  his  ears, 
Responsive  to  his  fingers  slim, 
With  joy  and  tears, 
His  violin  has  brought  to  him 
The  colours  all  from  nature,  pure: 
Could  sight  itself  have  given  more? 

R.  B. 

TV7ELL  of  joy,  of  hope  the  spring, 
™     Even  truth  may  give  a  sting: 
Sweet  its  message,  clear,  unsought — 
Bitter  when  by  sorrow  brought: 
Cupid  is  a  jealous  faery: 
Never  mortal  wise  or  wary 
Spurned  the  law  that  he  ordains: 
Love  is  King!  Supreme  he  reigns! 

[58] 


A  PASTOR 

measure  life  by  years,  not  deeds, 
Is  usual  with  those  that  err; 
But  one  who  finds  and  fills  the  needs 
Of  aching  hearts  and  poor  lost  souls, 
And  brings  them  to  the  sheltering  folds 
Where  human  ties  are  sweet  and  dear, 
And  hope  eternal  gives  anew 
The  strength  to  struggle  and  to  fight, 
The  courage  needed  to  be  true, — 
Must  realize  that  on  this  earth 
His  years  are  measured  by  his  worth, 
Which  God  alone  may  judge  aright: 
No  wonder  then,  fond  brother  mine, 
That  fifty  Winters— dare  I  tell?— 
Have  passed  and  hardly  left  a  line 
Upon  your  brow;  and  that  your  hair, 
Though  touched  by  grey,  bespeaks  no  care, 
Because  your  people  love  you  well! 

CALLING 

A  RE  you  calling  me? 
"  Can  I  mistake  the  voice  I  hear, 
Far-off  at  times,  then  again  so  near, 
Chanting  a  melody  soft  and  low, 
Only  permitted  to  lovers  to  know, 
Giving  ecstasy? 

I  am  calling  you: 

Although  no  sound  from  my  lips  is  heard, 
Out  into  space  hurries  each  fond  word, 
Driven  by  energy  stored  in  my  heart, 
Straight  to  the  soul  of  its  own  counterpart, 
Faithful,  loving,  true. 

[59] 


IN  MEMORIAM 
(F.  S.  Ober) 

TfAITHFUL,  thoughtful  to  the  end— 

-*-      Death's  messenger  had  called 

Long  since,  and  spirit  forms 

Were  waiting  anxiously 

To  greet  a  kindred  soul; 

And,  yet,  though  gasping,  sore, 

He  would  not  pass  into  the  world 

Beyond,  until  he  sent  his  love 

To  those  who  were  his  friends 

On  earth — for  whom  he  would 

Provide  a  cordial  welcome 

In  the  great  unknown. 

Old  friend,  the  prospects  brighten 

For  the  life  to  come,  since 

We  may  hope  again  to  know 

The  blessing  of  your  friendship  there: 

Comrade,  brother,  we  expect 

To  join  you  in  eternal  peace! 

A  VOICE 

A    VOICE  at  night,  in  the  stillness  heard, 
^*-  But  just  as  clear  in  the  busy  throng, 
As  sweet  as  the  note  of  a  singing  bird, 
And  sweeter  than  any  written  song, 
Is  whispering  words  that  make  my  heart 
Pulsate  in  quivering,  quickened  throbs; 
I  stop  to  listen,  but  quickly  start, 
Amazed  to  find  I  am  choked  by  sobs: 
Too  late,  I  know  the  truth  to  be, 
The  voice  of  love  was  calling  me. 

[60] 


CONTENT 

T  TSELESS  both  feet, 

'*-'    But  swinging  along 

On  crutches,  swaying, 

Almost  playing, 

There  came  from  her  throat, 

Ravishing,  sweet, 

The  lilting  note 

Of  a  merry  song: 

And  I  knew  what  I  heard, 

Like  the  trill  of  a  bird, 

Was  a  parcel  and  part 

Of  the  well  of  content 

In  the  depths  of  her  heart: 

The  body  was  bent, 

But  beauty  and  truth, 

Twin  vassals  of  youth, 

Lit  luminous  eyes 

That  mirror  the  skies 

And  the  soul,  infinite. 


THE  SONG  SUBLIME 

nnHE  music  written,  played  or  sung, 
-"•    May  give  delight  to  those  who  know 
The  mysteries  and  magic  tongue 
In  which  the  cadenced  phrases  flow: 

But  every  class,  in  every  clime — 
The  creatures  dumb — or  deer,  or  dove, 
Untutored  know  the  song  sublime 
To  thrill  a  heart  or  tell  their  love! 

[61] 


THE  HARVEST  MOON 

legends  say  the  Harvest  moon 
Is  far  the  best  of  all  the  year; 
Perhaps  it  is,  but  very  soon, 
The  same  of  other  moons  you  hear. 

The  beauty  lies,  not  in  the  star, 
The  music  sounds,  not  in  the  spheres, 
But  in  the  eyes  that  gaze  afar, 
And  in  the  heart,  with  listening  ears, 

The  soul  that  is  with  love  in  tune, 
Can  find  in  every  earthly  thing, 
A  far  resounding,  echoing  rune, 
That  stirs  the  heart  and  makes  it  sing. 

A  heart  at  peace,  a  mind  at  rest, 
Would  give  to  life  upon  this  earth 
A  cup  so  full  of  what  is  best, 
That  we  might  scorn  a  second  birth. 


T  PLANTED  the  seed  of  a  flower  rare, 
•*•      In  earth  prepared  with  infinite  care; 
But  wind  and  want  of  rain  and  sun, 
Completely  undid  the  work  that  was  done. 

Unknowing,  unthinking,  a  love-seed  fell 
On  soil  untilled,  in  an  unknown  dell; 
And  without  the  aid  of  sun  or  rain, 
Its    bloom    and    perfume    have    known    no 
wane. 

[62] 


A   KISS 

I  WAKED  her  with  a  kiss: 
Who  knows   what  thoughts,   unfettered 

then, 

Were  flitting  through  her  brain,  at  rest; 
What  visions  weird,  or  dreams  again 
Of  love  unknown,  had  filled  her  breast? 
I  only  know  my  bliss! 

All  dreams  may  be  surmise: 

But  when  the  curtains  of  her  sight 

Were  barely  drawn  a  line  apart, 

My  soul  was  stilled  with  sweet  delight, 

I  knew  the  joy  that  filled  my  heart 

Was  love-light  from  her  eyes. 


LOVE'S  SYMPHONY 

T  IVING  can  give  many  joys, 
-"-^    None  so  great  as  love  may  be, 
Time  alone  all  else  destroys, 
Love  lasts  through  Eternity. 

Dying  may  to  some  give  pain, 
One  at  least  may  ever  deem, 
Life  has  never  been  in  vain, 
Love  has  made  it  one  sweet  dream. 

For  the  Future  have  no  fear, 
Let  the  Past  a  memory  be, 
Listen,  you  yourself  may  hear 
Love's  ecstatic  symphony! 


[63] 


HUMILITY 

stars  that  twinkle  and  that  shine 
A  wondrous  source  of  beauty  are; 
But  science  only  can  opine 
The  secret  of  the  shooting  star. 

What  can  the  soul,  to  land  chain-bound, 
Pretend  to  tell  us  of  the  sea — 
That  restless,  boundless  girdle  'round 
The  earth  for  all  eternity. 

The  simple  fools  may  jest  and  jeer 
Who  never  raise  their  eyes  above, 
Too  ignorant  to  even  fear 
The  force  or  fire  of  holy  love. 

Embrace  the  heart  that  has  its  grief: 
The  life  that  only  knows  sunshine 
Can  have  no  infinite  belief 
In  what  is  human  or  divine. 

Humility  alone  can  bring 
The  mortal  mind  with  God  in  touch: 
They  tell  us  that  the  Heavenly  King 
Has  filled  His  kingdom  full  of  such. 


[64] 


SEA-GULLS 

Tj\AR  from  their  homes,  on  tireless  wing, 
A      Only  the  waves  of  the  sea  for  a  bed, 
Sea-gulls  will  follow,  with  rhythmical  swing, 
While  the  propellers  are  forging  ahead. 

Distance  and  time  are  not  factors  to  them, 
Storms  only  hasten  and  help  them  along: 
Most  of  their  kind  they  can  rightly  con 
temn — 

One  shrill,  sharp  note  is  the  whole  of  their 
song. 

Even  their  bed  is  as  restless  as  they, 
Cooling    their    feet    and    caressing    their 

breasts : 

Nature,  however,  has  taught  them  the  day 
When  to  return  and  revisit  their  nests. 

FREE 

mind  is  free — 

But  not  on  land, 
And  never  at  sea 
Until  the  spirit  that  gave  it  birth 
Has  taught  how  little  this  life  is  worth, 

Without  the  hand 

Of  Deity. 

The  heart  is  free — 
But  not  below, 
Nor  even  above, 

Unless  some  power  has  made  it  know 
The  bliss  that  alone  can  make  it  so — 
Unbounded  love 
Eternally. 

[65] 


LOST  AND  FOUND 

T  ONG,  long  ago,  just  when  I  can't  say, 
•*-J    But  it  seems  to  me  forever  and  a  day, 
I  lost  my  love,  and  I  don't  know  how — 
Unless — but  its  idle  to  guess  at  it  now. 

Twice  in  the  night,  before  it  was  dawn, 
Came   a  voice   of   distress   by   some   spirit 

borne, 

And  only  the  years  in  the  future  told 
How  two  little  lambs  had  entered  the  fold. 

At  last  came  a  line — just  a  simple  note, 
Clear  and  concise,  in  which  she  wrote 
That  in  trouble  and  pain  the  old,  old  love 
Alone   stood  the   test   and   was   help   from 
above. 

Perhaps  we  shall  never  discover  nor  know 
How    God   works   his   wonders    and   makes 

love  grow: 

But  a  force  irresistible  holds  in  its  power 
The  God-born  love,  not  the  love  of  the  hour. 

One  never  can  tell  what  the  Future  may 

bring, 

We  are  seldom  quite  certain  of  anything; 
But  I  know  that  my  love  in  the  years  gone 

by 
Is  still  mine  to-day  and  forever  and  aye. 


[66] 


LOST  LOVE 

VOU  may  mock 
•*•    At  the  heart  overflowing  with  grief, 

You  may  lock 
In  your  breast  any  thought  of  relief, 

But  some  day 

From   the   depths   of   your   soul   you   shall 
know, 

You  must  say 
No  mortal  may  live  without  woe! 

My  heart  bleeds 
When  I  think  of  my  love  in  the  past; 

My  soul  needs 
Just  one  more  tender  word  that  may  last; 

My  will  craves 
What  it  once  thought  it  held  quite  secure; 

My  mind  raves 
At  the  loss  it  must  feel  evermore! 

MOTHER-LOVE 

door-step  of  a  busy  thoroughfare, 
With  surface  lines  and  elevated  cars, 
And  noisy  workers  welding  iron  bars, 
Reveals,  in  gingham  dress,  with  raven  hair, 
A  woman  of  the  working,  plainer  class, 
Whose  face  is  radiant  with  a  careless  smile, 
As  in  her  lap,  outstretched  and  happy,  while 
Upon  its  face  and  head  (a  tangled  mass 
Of  dark  brown  curls)  the  kisses  rain, 
A  playful  child  inspires  that  mother-love, 
So   pure,    unselfish,   straight   from   heaven 

above, 
Which  never  has  its  like  on  earth  again. 

[67] 


A  MYSTERY 

TfTHEN  shall  we  know — God  grant  it  be 

soon — 

Music  unwritten,  but  heard  in  our  sleep: 
Why  does  its  wonderful  entrancing  tune 
Lie  in  a  mystery  ever  too  deep? 

Down  in  his  heart,  in  the  peasant's  breast, 
Untouched    by    trouble,    and    unmoved    by 

pain, 

Poetry  exquisite,  never  expressed, 
Flows  from  an  unending,  natural  vein. 

Working    untrammeled    by    sight    and    by 

thought, 

Pictures  unconsciously  limned  by  the  brain, 
Artists    remember;    but    when    they    are 

sought, 
Canvas  and  colour  refuse  them  again. 

LOVE-LIGHT 

TV/IY    heart    like    a   bud   that    had    never 

*-**-    bloomed, 

To    shade    and    shadow    seemed   hopelessly 

doomed, 

No  ray  of  sunshine  nor  breath  of  Spring 
Would  kiss  and  keep  it  from  withering. 

The  light  from  a  tender,  human  face, 
Aglow  with  pity  and  exquisite  grace, 
Illumined  the  plant,  all  drooping  alone, 
And  made  from  the  bud  a  rose  full-blown. 

[68] 


ABOVE  THE  CLOUDS 

A  BOVE  the  Clouds, 

•**•  The  vault  of  Heaven  arched  and  bound 
less, 

The  azure  blue  so  pure  and  clear, 
The  air  itself  so  rare,  and  fresh  and  free, 
Instil  into  the  mind  the  groundless, 
Hopelessness  of  plans  projected  here, 
Regardless  of  the  great  Eternity 
Above  the  clouds. 

Above  the  clouds, 

Our  thoughts  may  always  soar  with  ease, 
And  bring  to  us  a  fuller  dawn, 
Replete  with  knowledge  of  a  sweeter  life, 
In  which  misfortune  and  disease 
Can  find  no  place:  the  weary,  worn 
Forget   their   troubles,   know   no   care   nor 

strife 

Above  the  clouds! 

UNCHANGED 

leaves   are  changed  from   green   to 

gold, 

And  silver  streaks  the  auburn  hair, 
Sometimes,  before  its  owner  fair 
Has  known  the  grief  that  makes  one  old; 
The  seasons  change  from  warm  to  cold, 
But  human  nature  everywhere 
Remains  the  same:  at  least,  one  thing 
Unchanged,  amidst  so  much  unrest, 
Unfailing  joy  and  peace  may  bring 
To  those  who  serve  its  altar  best. 

[69] 


DREAMING 

A  WAKE  and  alert,  I  seem  never  to  see 
-^*-  The  one  whom  I  know  is  still  waiting 

for  me; 
But  when  I  am  dreaming,  those  eyes  look 

in  mine 
And  answer  my  prayer  in  a  language  divine. 

Perhaps  in  the  Future,  in  worlds  still  un 
known, 

My  dreaming  may  bring  me  the  love  it  has 
sown; 

The  life  after  death  all  the  sweeter  should 
be, 

When  love  is  unfettered  for  Eternity. 


A  GOLDEN  WEDDING 

Tj^IFTY  happy,  golden  years! 
•*•      Although  trials,  losses,  tears 
May  have  cast  some  shadows  dark, 
And  the  carols  of  the  lark 
May  have  failed  to  bring  you  cheer, 
When  affliction  drew  too  near; 
Still,  the  long  association 
Is  a  special  dispensation 
Granted  to  but  few  below: 
Yours  the  real  joys  to  know 
Here  on  earth,  and,  surely,  Love 
Shall  provide  no  less  above. 

[70] 


A  CROSS 

IMPLE,   but  high 
On  Alpine  crest, 
Above  the  strife 
And  stress  of  life, 
A  cross,  at  rest, 
Kisses   the   sky! 

Steadfast    through    storm ; 
The   sun   ablaze 
With  torrid  light, 
The   moon   at   night 
With  silver   rays, 
Outline   its   form. 

Token   sublime 
By  ages  blest, 
With  love   untold, 
Your   arms  enfold 
The   heart   oppressed 
In  every  clime. 


[71] 


IF 

TF  I  could  speak, 

-••    The  language  of  the  flowers, 

Their  fragrance  lend 

To  every  word  and  phrase, 

What  harp  or  lute, 

With  all  its  subtle  powers, 

Would  dare  contend — 

Unless  to  suit 

Its  music  to  my  lays? 

If  I  could  use 

The  language  of  the  birds, 

The  melody 

Bewitching  of  their  lays, 

I  know  my  pen 

Would  not  commit  to  words 

Or  poesy 

My  love:  but  then, 

My  heart  would  sing  always. 


A  CHORD 

T\EEP  in  my  heart,  is  a  chord  divine, 
-'-'Full  of  a  harmony  strange  to  this  earth, 
Until  that  masterful  music  of  thine, 
Calls  it  from  spirit-land,  giving  it  birth. 

Could  I  translate  into  words  such  a  strain, 
Words  that  the  people  could  grasp  every 
where, 

Nations  enchanted  would  sing  the  refrain, 
Filling  with  melody,  earth,  sea  and  air. 

[72] 


LOVE'S  MESSAGE 

trackless  ways, 
For  nights  and  days, 
A  message  from  my  soul  has  sped; 
Incessantly, 
On  land  and  sea, 
It  follows  boldly,  whither  led. 

If  efforts  fail 

On  hill  and  vale 

To  reach  the  heart  to  which  it  goes, 

It  will  defy, 

However  high, 

The  peaks  that  boast  eternal  snows. 

The  dark  below, 

From  which  we  know 

That  raging  flames  may  rarely  rise, 

Will  only  speed 

The  soul  whose  need 

Is  love  supreme,  that  never  dies. 

I  have  no  fear, 

Though  never  here 

The  message  finds  its  destined  goal, 

In  spirit  land, 

A  loving  hand 

Will  grasp  and  greet  my  longing  soul. 


[73] 


TEAR  DROPS 

T  AM  thinking  of  you: 

•*•    In  the  hush  of  the  morn, 

Ere  the  rose-fingered  dawn 

From  the  darkness  is  born, 

All  alone,  heavy  hearted, 

Come  the  dreams  when  we  parted 

Of  a  love  old,  yet  new. 

I  am  singing  to  you: 

In  my  heart  is  a  strain 

Oft  repeated  again 

In  the  same  sweet  refrain, 

Softly  speaking  or  calling; 

On  my  cheeks,  there  are  falling 

Pearl  tear-drops,  like  dew. 

I  am  longing  for  you: 

Does  your  heart  feel  my  thought? 

Has  your  consciousness  caught 

From  the  ether  waves  naught 

That  my  heart  throbs  are  saying? 

Al*e  you  yourself  praying 

That  those  dreams  may  come  true? 


[74] 


AFFINITY 

A  LONE  I've  waited,  suffered,  wept, 
•*"*•  The  years  have  passed,   and   still  my 

grief 

In  silence  borne,  has  on  me  crept: 
The  Future  holds  out  no  relief. 

It  seems  that  every  hope  has  fled, 
That  love  and  sunshine  all  about, 
Cannot  by  chance,  upon  my  head 
Descend,  and  much  less  seek  me  out. 

And  yet,  another  sense  has  told, 
That  on  this  earth  not  far  from  me, 
A  heart  is  beating,  in  whose  hold, 
My  own  love-fire  glows  brilliantly. 

How  can  a  flame  forever  last, 
Without  renewing  proper  food? 
To  make  it  stand  the  wintry  blast, 
Unspoken  love  can  not  be  crude. 

But  not  a  sign  and  not  a  word 
For  years  between  ourselves  has  passed, 
Unless,  perchance,  each  one  has  heard 
The  other's  heart  by  grief  harassed. 


[75] 


ALONE 

T  LOVE  to  listen  to  the  singing  birds; 

-*-    The  rustling  leaves  have  music  of  their 

own: 
But   nothing   sounds    so    sweet   as    do   the 

words 
I  hear  in  silence,  when  I  am  alone. 

My   fancy   makes   me   free   to   choose   the 

voice 

That  never  fails  to  lure  me  by  its  charm: 
Besides,  I  am  not  hindered  in  my  choice 
Of  what  to  hear,  and  when  to  take  alarm. 

The  face  of  one  whose  memory  is  enshrined 
In  all  the  beauty  of  a  boy's  love-dream, 
Is    with    the    voice    and    figure    close    en 
twined — 
A  picture-poem,  like  a  fairy  neem. 

The  fragrance  of  a  blooming  flower  bed, 
The  odor  from  the  fresh  and  new  mown  hay, 
Revives  the  recollections  of  the  head 
That  once  upon  my  shoulder  loved  to  stay. 

The  strains  of  every  air,  by  time  endeared, 
The  harmonies  that  often  are  not  scored, 
Infuse  my  mind  and  cause  it  to  be  cleared 
Of    all    unhealthy    thoughts    it    may    have 
stored. 

No  wonder  then,  that  people  are  content 
To  live  alone,  and  never  dare  to  mate: 
A  love  unhappy  proves  the  incident 
Preparatory  to  a  better  fate. 

[76] 


BOHEMIANS 

"V7"OU  may  have  a  superstition 
••-    Which  amounts  to  a  delusion, 
Or  a  simple  intuition 
That  occasions  much  confusion; 
There  are  fads  and  fancies  funny 
That  may  help  or  harm  digestion: 
But  Bohemians  with  money 
Must  excite  comment  and  question. 

It  is  hard  to  give  a  reason 
For  the  foolish  things  we  think; 
It  is  harder  still,  in  season, 
To  command  the  printers  ink: 
But  Bohemians  are  careful 
On  the  lines  where  others  fail : 
And  though  seldom  ever  prayerful, 
They  have  friendship — not  for  sale! 

An  analysis  will  prove  it, 
That  the  heart  as  hard  as  stone 
(Only  dynamite  can  move  it, 
Though  it  really  is  bone) 
In  Bohemians  is  missing. 
But,  instead  you  always  find 
One  whose  music,  sweet  as  kissing, 
Throbs  with  love  for  human  kind. 


[77] 


FAR  AND  NEAR 

HPHE  night  is  done, 
-*•     And  linnets  are 
Astir:  upon 
The  eastern  sky 
A  blush:  on  high 
No  daring  star 
Disputes  with  day 
The  right  of  way; 
And  yet,  the  light 
Confounds  my  sight — 
For  thou  art  far! 

The  day  is  done, 
But  all  is  clear: 
No  midday  sun 
Could  give  more  light 
To  guide  aright 
And  calm  my  fear 
Than  that  I  know 
When  from  two  eyes, 
With  feigned  surprise, 
The  love-beams  glow — 
For  thou  art  near! 


[78] 


ROEANNE  (9  MONTHS  OLD) 

T> ABIES  all  may  interest: 
•*-^    Clothed  in  little  but  a  smile, 
Each  will  prove  a  welcome  guest, 
When  it  coos  or  tries  the  while. 

Dimpled  wrists  and  dumpy  feet 
Lend  their  own  peculiar  charms 
To  a  baby  clean  and  sweet, 
Nestling  in  its  mother's  arms. 

You  may  think  those  open  eyes 
Prettier  if  a  different  hue; 
But  the  parents  who  are  wise, 
Know  that  any  shade  will  do. 

Naturally,  every  dear 
Has  some  special  cunning  ways 
Which  would  take  at  least  a  year 
To  enumerate;  these  lays 

Are  to  tell  you  of  a  child — 
Not  my  own,  I  grieve  to  say — 
Wondrous  fair  and  meek  and  mild, 
Full  of  sunshine  all  the  day. 

From  the  hour  when  she  was  born, 
None  who  know  her  can  deny, 
Whether  it  be  night  or  morn, 
She  is  seldom  heard  to  cry. 

Trustful,  calm,  a  face  so  rare, 
Surely  with  those  eyes  of  blue 
And  her  soft  abundant  hair, 
She  is  equalled  by  but  few. 


[79] 


Doubtless  this  may  vex  her  mind, 
How  an  angel  here  below, 
Can  the  proper  helpmate  find— 
For  her  sort  is  rare,  you  know. 

Smile  and  coo  in  peace,  Roeanne: 
You  will  find  when  you  are  grown, 
Peace  quite  rare,  for  every  man 
Tries  to  cull  a  rose  full-blown. 


CONTRAST 

A    LONG  day  of  work, 
-^*-  A  night  of  unrest, 
Suspicions  that  lurk 
Where  faith  should  obtain: 
Discouraged  by  pain, 
Unhappy  at  best, 
A  body  not  well- 
Does  earth  hold  more  hell? 

A  touch  of  the  hand, 
A  glance  of  the  eye 
That  you  understand: 
A  word  from  the  heart 
Untrammelled  by  art, 
Your  loved  one  near  by 
To  give  you  a  kiss — 
Has  Heaven  more  bliss? 


[80] 


HEART  HUNGER 

"P|O  you  listen  while  you  sleep? 
*-*  Then  I  know  you  hear  my  cry, 
For  in  slumber,  light  or  deep, 
I  am  calling — You  know  why! 

When  you  go  from  place  to  place, 
Can't  you  see  me  at  your  side? 
Though  my  eyes  be  closed,  your  face 
By  my  fancy  is  espied. 

Music  strange  you  hear  and  feel: 
Do  you  marvel  at  its  force? 
Could  my  spirit  to  you  steal, 
You,  at  least,  would  know  its  source. 

Does  the  perfume  of  the  flower, 
Bring  you  pleasure,  give  you  joy? 
This  to  me  gives  every  hour, 
Thoughts  of  you  that  never  cloy. 

Though  you  lost  your  taste  and  touch 
Yet  the  senses  left,  just  three, 
Would  sufficient  be  for  such 
Individuality. 

Do  the  ether  waves  from  you, 
Cause  my  hungry  heart  unrest, 
Keep  me  wondering,  is  it  true, 
While  I  suffer,  God  knows  best? 


[81] 


ASLEEP 

UR  ship  is  delayed  by  the  force  of  the 

gale, 
And  tossed  by  the  billows  and  beaten  by 

hail, 

But  peacefully  dreaming,  my  darling  asleep 
In  a  trundle-bed  cot,   is  unmoved  by   the 

deep. 

Sweetly  sleep! 

The  hand  of  another  will 
Temper  the  storm: 
The  heart  of  a  mother  still 
Shelters  your  form. 

The  years  that  shall  follow  may  bring  you 

delight, 

Or  even  a  lover  to  guard  you  at  night; 
But  only  the  love  of  a  mother  may  last 
When  fortune  and  friends  are  but  dreams  of 

the  past. 

Sweetly  sleep! 

The  hand  of  another  will 
Temper  the  storm: 
The  heart  of  a  mother  still 
Shelters  your  form. 


[82] 


TRUTH 

WHO    knows    the    spirit    inspiring    song 
birds? 
How  do  they  learn  what  so  sweetly  they 

sing? 

May  be  their  music  is  too  rare  for  words, 
Save  for  the  words  that  their  own  fancies 
bring. 

Can  we  explain  how  some  wonderful  song 
Comes  to  the  writer  unbidden,  unsought, 
Unless  his  muse  is  compelled  by  some  wrong, 
Or    by    some    pleasure    that's    too    dearly 
bought. 

Only    the    heart    that    has    suffered    and 

grieved, 

Knows  how  to  touch  by  its  voice  or  its  word, 
That  of  another  too  often  deceived, 
Whether  the  message  be  old  or  unheard. 

One  kind  of  music  and  one  kind  of  song, 
Ever  strikes  deep  and  in  memory  stays, 
That  from  the  heart,  which  can  never  be 

wrong, 
Having  the  Truth  as  its  key-note  always. 


[83] 


AN  INSPIRATION 

OHE  held  my  hand: 

^    And  as  her  dark  eyes  flashed 

Discreetly,  pressed  it,  unabashed, 

A  magic  wand 
To  give  an  inspiration  for  a  song: 

No  one  could  fail  to  write 
When  sensation,  touch  and  sight 
Compelled  creative  thoughts  to  surge  along. 

She  held  my  hand: 
The  voice  of  Spring  rang  clear, 
The  leaves  and  birds  were  near — 

You  understand — 
All  nature  felt  a  new  impulse  in  life: 

The  Winter  chill  had  passed, 

Until  I  saw  aghast, 
The  man  who  wanted  her  to  be  his  wife! 

SILENCE  AND  SONG 

T  CANNOT  sing: 

-*•    Bright  though  the  day, 

Dark  seems  the  way 

While  memories  are  haunting  me 

Of  one  who  long  since  crossed  the  sea 

In  early  Spring. 

At  sight  of  thee, 

Even  the  night 

Borrows  new  light 

From  distant  orbs  to  give  a  charm, 

My  heart  is  free  from  all  alarm — 

I  sing  with  glee. 

[84] 


INTUITION 

rpHE    birds    seek    shelter    safely    in    the 
-*•     boughs, 

The  lambs,  by  hills  protected,  fear  no  wind, 
But  mortals,  who  depend  upon  the  vows 
So  rashly  made,  so  easy  to  rescind, 
Ignore  the  one,  supreme,  unfailing  sense 
That  offers  even  animals  defense. 

The  ceremonies  by  the  church  compelled, 

The  forms  provided  by  the  civil  laws, 

May  merge  two  names,  but  never  may  they 

meld 
Two   hearts    discordant:    if   you   seek   the 

cause, 

Neglect  of  intuition  tells  the  tale 
Of  why  such  unions  know  no  word  but  fail. 

THE  STRUGGLE 

JTTHE  path  of  knowledge  is  the  same, 
•*•     Defiant,  difficult,  obscure; 
The  goal,  success — no  easy  game 
For  rich  to  play,  much  less  for  poor. 

Sharp,  cruel  thorns  beset  the  way, 
The  climb  for  many  is  too  steep, 
And  ere  they  see  the  dawn  of  day, 
Most  weary  toilers  fall  asleep. 

The  dreamer  works,  the  worker  dreams, 
Each  striving,  struggling  for  the  goal, 
And  while  they  press  their  futile  schemes, 
Each  loses   more — a  mortal   soul. 

[85] 


MON  DESIR 

OOME  attracted  by  a  face, 
^    Follow  blindly  any  pace; 
More  pursue  a  money  prize, 
Often  won  by  fraud  and  lies: 
Others  for  a  lithesome  form 
Weather  any  kind  of  storm: 
Many  are  by  titles  drawn, 
Early  taught  on  rank  to  fawn: 
Graces  rare,  so  sweet  to  see, 
When  possessed  from  infancy, 
May  escape  a  searching  eye, 
If  no  cloud  obscures  the  sky : 
But  I  know  the  better  part, 
Hidden  by  consummate  art — 
That  which  worships  at  the  shrine 
Of  the  cross — your  soul  divine — 
Glows  in  grief  that  none  may  borrow; 
Will  you  let  me  share  your  sorrow? 


PHYLLIS  (16  MONTHS  OLD) 

pHYLLIS  you  may  never  know 

•*•      How  your  gift  has  touched  my  heart, 

Nor  how  every  day  you  grow 

Charms  from  which  you  may  not  part. 

Later,  when  some  man  shall  claim 

All  your  love  eternally, 

Giving  you  his  heart  and  name, 

Can  you  keep  a  place  for  me? 

[86] 


A  CONTRALTO 

secret  of  the  voice  you  know: 
The  'cello  tones  so  deep  and  low 
Come  faultlessly  and  free; 
But  do  you  feel  that  sweeter  thrill 
Your  heart  pulsating,  never  still 
Can  give  so  secretly? 

Perhaps  that  very  mellow  tone 

Will  wake  the  heart  that  with  your  own 

Pulsates  in  unison: 

Will  make  the  chord  none  else  may  hear, 

Except  the  one  for  whom  it's  clear — 

When  two  hearts  sound  like  one! 


ALOFT 

TI/T ASTER  of  land  and  sea 
•*•*-••  For  many  years,  the  mind 
Has  solved  the  mystery 
Of  winged  things:  the  wind 
Its  servant,  bears  and  speeds 
The  craft  from  place  to  place 
More  swiftly  than  the  pace 
Of  falcons  fast,  and  feeds 
Aloft  with  purer  air 
The  fancy  fine;  while  Care, 
The  brute  that  all  annoys 
And  stoutest  hearts  corrodes, 
In  vain  the  soul  assails 
That  carried  by  the  gales 
Above  the  clouds,  enjoys 
Aerial  abodes. 

[87] 


A  SONG-WRITER 

/~\NLY  to  look  in  those  wondrous  eyes, 
^  Out  of  whose  depths  subtle  harmonies 

flow, 

Brings  back  the  hopes  of  a  lost  paradise, 
Seen  once  in  dreams,  in  the  years  long  ago. 

Hearing  the  thoughts  hidden  deep  in  your 

mind, 

Rapturous,  written  in  musical  phrase, 
Transports  the  senses  until  they  may  find 
Heaven  revealed  in  melodious  lays. 


FORTUNATE 

CHE  put  the  rose  upon  her  breast: 
^     And  as  it  moved  in  sweet  unrest, 
I  thought  the  flower  fortunate, 
Despite  the  fact  that  envious  fate 
Would  wilt  the  leaves,  the  colour  fade ; 
That  soon  the  vibrant  passion  shade 
Would  lose  its  lustre  and  depart: 
At  least,  it  slept  upon  her  heart, 
By  living  apples  twain  caressed 
And  knew  one  hour  supremely  blessed. 


[88] 


A  WILD  ROSE 

"C'AR  from  the  beaten  paths  and  tracks, 
•*•     Out  in  the  jungle,  all  alone, 
Singing  its  song  in  colour  tone, 
Breathing  a  fragrance  nothing  lacks, 
Modestly  flourished  a  sweet  wild  rose. 

Winnowed,    perhaps,     from    some    hidden 

bower, 

Why  it  should  seek  such  a  faraway  spot, 
The  wind,  its  carrier,  tells  me  not: 
Why  it  would  waste  its  short-lived  hour, 
Only  the  soul  of  the  flower  knows. 


CARNATIONS 

CARNATIONS  may  my  thought  reveal, 
^    If  colours  give  a  real  tone, 
Unless  their  fragrance  shall  conceal 
The  music  which  is  theirs  alone. 

Perhaps,  your  latent  art  can  feel 
From  them  an  added  force  to  grow: 
At  least,  their  beauty  must  appeal 
To  those  who  understand  and  know. 

[91] 


ROSE-BLOOM 

TJIDDEN  in  the  earth,  a  seed 
--*•  Patiently  in  silence  grows, 
Satisfied  because  it  knows 
God  will  tend  its  every  need: 
Casting  off  the  shroud  of  night, 
To  the  world  its  foliage  shows 
Why  its  heart  was  glad — the  light 
Lingered,  loved,  and  left  a  rose. 

But  its  mission,  who  may  tell? 
Will  it  blossom  at  its  best 
When  the  sun  has  sought  the  West? 
Or  will  one  who  loves  it  well 
Wrest  it  from  its  bed  of  clay, 
Clasp  it  to  her  heaving  breast, 
Where,  to  dwell  for  just  one  day, 
Is  enough,  by  love  caressed. 


[92] 


VIOLETS 

A    ROSE  may  blush, 
**  But  what  may  violets  do 
When,  nestled  close  to  you, 
They  hear  entrancing  music,  new, 
Except  to  shew  a  deeper  hue, 
And  breathe  their  fragrance  sweet, 
Until  your  senses  feel  and  greet 
Their  song  and  hush! 


ENTHRALLING 

T  FOUND  a  rose-bud  on  the  floor, 
-*-    So  young,  so  soft,  so  sweet,  so  pink; 
And  since,  I  wonder  more  and  more 
If  once  its  owner  stopped  to  think 
What  danger  lurked  when  to  its  bloom, 
An  added  fragrance  from  its  fair 
But  careless  wearer  gave  perfume 
Enthralling  those  who  breathed  the  air. 
Perhaps,  it  never  has  been  missed: 
And  yet,  it  were  a  rich  bequest 
For  him  who  loved  the  maid  that  kissed 
And  clasped  it  closely  to  her  breast. 

[93] 


PRETTY  PANSY 

pRETTY  pansy,  delicate, 
A      Let  me  ask  you,  ere  too  late, 
How  your  colours  mix  and  blend, 
Whence  the  fragrance  that  you  lend 
Even  to  the  ruthless  hand 
Plucking  you  from  out  the  sand: 
How  such  tender  thoughts  you  stir, 
Though  a  silent  listener. 
Were  you,  dainty,  graceful  thing, 
Moulted  from  a  Love-God's  wing? 
Can  you  heal  a  wounded  heart, 
Or  is  this  beyond  your  art? 
Tell  your  secrets  just  to  me: 
I  shall  guard  them  jealously! 


THE  POPPY 

T^ROM  battle  fields  the  poppy  springs 
•*•      Suffused  with  memories  it  brings ; 
And  were  not  speech  to  flowers  denied, 
The  tale  of  those  who  fought  and  died 
Could  reach  the  mother  heart  possessed 
By  grief  and  give  it  peace  and  rest: 
But  since  we  know  the  richer  hue 
To  blood  of  heroes  must  be  due, 
In  reverence  we  speak  the  name: 
Imperishable  now  its  fame. 


SPRING  SONGS 


A-WHISPERING 

T  FEEL  a  change  in  everything, 

•*-    And  all  in  the  space  of  a  day: 

Some  birds  to  the  North  are  taking  wing, 

While  those  in  the  South  already  sing 

In  their  own  unequalled  way. 

A  bud  appears  on  a  leafless  tree, 

The  grass  is  no  longer  grey, 

Upon  a  naked  bush  you  see 

Where  nature  kissed  it  secretly 

To  clothe  it  in  colours  gay. 

Linger,  listen!     Can't  you  hear 

Spring  a- whispering  in  your  ear? 


EXPECTANCY 

fT^HE  buds  are  here: 

•••    The  birds  are  still  on  the  wing, 
But  not  so  far  away, 
And  almost  any  day, 

I  feel  they  must  come  and  bring 
To  my  eager  ear, 
The  new  notes  learned 
On  their  Southern  flight: 
At  break  of  dawn,  the  light 
May  show  them  returned, 
And  the  air  shall  ring 
With  the  themes  they  sing 
To  herald  the  Spring. 


[97] 


A  BREATH  OF  SPRING 

A    BALMY  breeze  no  eye  may  see 
•*"*•   Is  wafted  through  the  topmost  boughs 
And  even  to  the  root  endows 
With  sap  and  green  the  silent  tree. 

Its  leaves  with  melody  abound, 
The  birds  its  branches  fill  with  song: 
Below,  a  weird  mysterious  throng — 
Elusive  shadows — play  around. 

Throbbing  with  ecstasy,  everything 
Wakes  from  its  lethargy,  eager  for  strife, 
Feeling  a  yearning  for  love  and  life, 
Thrilled  by  the  quickening  breath  of  Spring. 


THE  SOFT  SOUTH  WIND 

TJ7INTER  still  grips  the  earth  and  trees: 

**  Timorous  birds  make  a  hurried  flight, 
But  twitter  and  trill  with  suppressed  delight 
As  they  flit  on  a  balmier  breeze: 
Sooner  than  any  of  human  kind 
They  feel  and  know  that  mystery 
Repeating  itself  in  history 
For  aeons  passed — that  the  soft  South  wind 

Awakens  the  earth 

And  hastens  the  birth 

Of  the  buds  and  plants: 

And  each  throat  pants 

With  desire  to  sing, 

Because  it  is  Spring. 

[98] 


THE  SECRET 

snow  and  silence  hear 
When  Spring  with  whirring  wing 
Sets  nature  all  a-stir 

And  wakes  the  birds  that  sing 
Enchanting  rondelays: 
Sometimes  they  fail  to  bring 

Through  weary  nights  and  days 
The  message  that  your  heart 
Has  hungered  for  always; 

And,  yet,  when  they  depart, 
This  truth  we  have  and  hold, 
That  with  exquisite  art 
The  secret  has  been  told. 


A  ROBIN 

stillness  of  an  April  morn 
Was  broken  by  the  stirring  note 
That  from  a  happy,  throbbing  throat 
Was  welcoming  the  rosy  dawn. 

Aroused,  I  heard  this  message  clear 
The  robin  on  a  leafless  tree 
Was  carolling  repeatedly: 
Awake!  Rejoice!  The  Spring  is  here! 


[99] 


THE  BLUE-BIRD 

CLINGING, 

^    Swinging, 
Joyously  trusting  the  wind 
With  something  its  own  heart  knows, 
A  blue-bird,  flaunting  the  snows, 
Merrily  trills:  Go  find 
Where  the  violet  grows 
And  search  for  a  rose: 
Already  the  Spring 
Gives  to  everything 
A  voice  that  must  sing, 

Ringing, 

Winging. 


[100] 


SONG  CYCLES 


IMMANUEL 

"C'ONS  pass,  but  every  Hebrew  maid 
•^    Hopeful  waits  and  listens  yearning: 
Palpitating  hearts,  and  burning 
Souls  impatient,  unafraid, 

Watchful  wonder, 

Prayerful  ponder 
Who  shall  be  the  mother  blessed, 
By  whose  hand  and  at  whose  breast 
God  has  planned  to  have  the  child 
Brought  to  full  maturity, 
Pure  and  holy,  undefiled 
With  assured  security. 

By  the  angel  Gabriel, 

Tidings  of  Immanuel, 

Secrets  of  Elizabeth 

Reach  the  city  Nazareth, 

In  the  heart  of  Gallilee: 

From  his  lips  the  Virgin  heard: 

"Fear  not,  Mary,"  and  this  word: 

"Favoured;  all  eternity 

Bless  and  praise  the  son  to  be — 

JESUS,  Son  of  God,  and  thee!" 

Anxiously  going, 
Wondering,  knowing 
Ecstasy  fine: 
Watchfully  caring, 
Consciously  bearing 
Concept  divine: 
"Holy  His  name! 
Merciful  Saviour, 
Always  the  same!" 

[103J 


Once  in  each  revolving  year, 
Comes  the  season  sweet  to  those 
Who  have  hearts  attuned  to  hear 
Helpless  infants  when  they  cry: 
Hushed  the  cradle — still  the  sky 
Holds  the  stars  the  wise  men  chose 
As  their  guide  to  Bethlehem, 
Where,  as  every  one  now  knows, 
In  a  manger,  marked  for  them, 
Lay  a  child,  a  prince,  a  King! 
Prophesied  for  years  to  bring 
Peace,  good-will,  and  happiness 
To  a  world  in  great  distress: 
One  whose  life  and  power  to  lift, 
Burdens  painfully  endured 
By  the  lepers,  never  cured, 
Was  the  special,  blessed  gift 
Granted  only  at  his  birth 
To  the  Son  of  God  on  earth. 

A  thousand  times  ten  thousand  years, 
Cannot  efface  the  wonder  wrought 
By  power  sublime:  time  but  endears 
The  birth  so  long  by  sages  sought, 
The  life  so  full  of  bitter  tears, 
The  death  by  which  eternal  life 
Was  made  an  heritage  secure, 
And  all  this  hard  and  cruel  strife 
Could  end  in  peace  for  evermore. 

In  the  Heavenly  choir 
You  may  hear  this  refrain: 
"He  is  coming  again, 
In  a  pillar  of  fire, 
With  affection,  not  ire: 

[104] 


From  the  right  hand  of  God 
He  hath  taken  the  Book, 
And  shall  reap  from  the  sod — 
Yea,  from  each  little  nook — 
The  rich  harvest,  so  rife; 
And  a  stream,  crystal  clear, 
Pure,  with  water  of  life, 
Takes  away  every  tear." 


LOVE  DIVINE 

A    FAIRY  Sprite, 
•**•   A  child  of  three, 
Happy  and  free, 
In  dappled  light, 
Under  a  tree, 
Dancing  and  swinging, 
Laughing  and  singing, 
Enraptures  me! 

A  maid,  I  ween, 

At  least  sixteen, 

Feeling  the  fire 

Of  golden  youth, 

Full  of  desire 

To  know  the  truth: 

The  earth  below 

And  the  sky  above  her, 

The  streams  as  they  flow 

In  their  winding  way, 

The  stars  and  the  moon 

To  my  heart  plainly  say: 


[105] 


She  has  come,;  the  boon 

Of  this  life  you  may  know — 

Tell  her  that  you  love  her! 

Oh!   for  the  language  in  which  the  heart 

speaks ! 

How  can  the  voice  surcharged  with  love, 
Eager  to  shout  from  the  topmost  peaks 
Paeans  of  joy  to  the  stars  above, 
Tell  in  soft  whispers  the  story  of  old, 
Place  on  her  finger  the  circlet  of  gold 
Binding  for  life,  yet  making  so  free 
Souls  that  are  mated  eternally? 

Let  silence  speak:  no  words  can  tell 
The  feelings  in  my  heart  so  deep: 
Unless  my  sighs  can  make  her  weep, 
Unless  my  eyes  tear-stained  dispel 
Distrust,  or  pity  at  my  grief 
Can  faith,  affection,  love  compel, 
As  well  as  infinite  belief, 
My  soul  its  tender  thoughts  must  keep 
To  treasure  in  the  endless  sleep! 

She  is  mine! 

Yes!  for  twenty  years 

We  have  shared  every  sorrow, 

And  known  that  to-morrow 

For  us  had  no  fears. 

Hearts  clean  and  pure 

Bound  by  faith  evermore, 

Live  to  learn  and  learn  to  live, 

Know  the  best  that  God  can  give — 

Love  divine. 

[106] 


WORLD  WAR  WEAVINGS 


THE  CONFLICT 

W/"AR,  a  madness,  hews  its  path 
**     Through  peace  and  plenty,  though 
The  Christ  has  come  and  taught  and  gone 
Almost  two  thousand  years! 
The  useless,  bitter  tears 
Of  widowed,  pregnant  women,  worn, 
(Ten  million  aching  hearts  forlorn) 
Can  never  drown  the  woe 
That  follows  in  the  wake:  the  wrath 
Of  injured  nations,  when  assuaged, 
Must  leave  a  trail  of  waste  and  death, 
With  refuse,  corpses,  offal  foul 
Polluting  many  a  water-way — 
And  none  to  garner  grain  by  day, 
While  any  blinking,  barking  owl 
At  night  may  hoot  with  tuneless  breath 
Where  people's  rights  have  been  outraged. 
And  shall  we  never  know  the  peace 
That  passeth  understanding  here? 
Our  culture,  boasted  must  appear 
A  savage  jest:  the  only  lease 
Perpetual  is  based  on  might — 
Unless  the  brotherhood  of  man 
Shall  shed  a  kindlier,  holy  light 
To  change  the  present  human  plan. 


[109] 


AN  APPEAL 

WfARRIORS,  brothers,  from  hatred 

awake ! 

Now,  in  a  frenzy  misguided,  you  take 
Lives  that  are  precious,  and  give  up  your 

own: 
Vengeance  belongs  to  the  Father  alone. 

What  is  the  profit?    Where  is  the  gain? 
Millions  are  wounded  or  crippled,  or  slain: 
None  seek  your  country,  but  all  the  world 

grieves ; 
Sorrow  comes  quickly,  how  slowly  it  leaves! 

Civilization  and  culture  demand 

Peace  for  the  arts  and  for  each  native  land: 

Silence  the  cannons!    The  swords — let  them 

rust! 
Brotherhood,  love  are  the  weapons  to  trust. 


[110] 


THE  HARVEST 

TNHUMAN,  ruthless  rulers,  late 

-*•    So  learned,  now  so  full  of  hate 

That  neither  law  nor  right  appeal; 

Unmindful  of  the  common  weal 

And  human  sufferings:  to  all 

Who  fail  with  you  to  stand  or  fall, 

Or  happening  on  your  wretched  path 

Of  desolation,  dare  your  wrath, 

A  mere  machine  of  Hell  that  kills — 

The  time  must  shortly  come  that  fills 

The  cup  to  overflowing!    Then, 

Discredited,  despised,  all  men 

With  blasphemy  shall  join  your  name: 

Your  people  branded  by  your  shame 

For  years  to  come,  must  surely  learn 

In  time,  your  iron  hand  to  spurn: 

That  for  a  dynasty  their  sons — 

The  decent,  honest,  worthy  Huns — 

In  vain  have  shed  their  blood ;  and  not 

Their  deaths  can  cleanse  the  awful  blot, 

Nor  purge  the  nation,  once  so  wise 

On  which  the  world  with  grateful  eyes 

Admiring  gazed.    Your  work  is  done: 

Your  word  is  broken:  where  is  one 

Who  trusts  your  promises?    The  day 

Is  near  for  democratic  sway: 

Upon  your  heads,  your  very  own 

Shall  heap  the  harvest  you  have  sown 

And  wrest  from  shame  their  troubled  race 

To  rise  and  hold  an  honored  place! 


[Ill] 


OUR  FLAG 

OTRIPES,  alternate  red  and  white, 
^    Stars  upon  a  field  of  blue, 
Emblem  glorious — the  sight 
Thrills  the  very  heart  of  you! 

Everywhere  it  floats  or  flies, 
All  the  world  shall  surely  know 
Human  life  and  mortal  ties 
Safe  and  sacred  thrive  and  grow. 

Peoples  garnered  by  the  winds 
Sweeping  over  every  sea, 
Learn  the  liberty  that  binds, 
Love  the  flag  that  made  them  free! 


WOOD  AND  IRON 

A    CHANT  of  love — a  song  of  hate — 
•**•   For  each,  a  cross  the  fitting  gift 
And  token,  rightly  understood: 
Our  Saviour  on  a  cross  of  wood 
Was  nailed  on  high,  to  expiate 
The  sins  of  others  and  to  lift 
From  hapless  man  the  curse  of  Cain: 
An  iron  cross  too  light  a  weight, 
But  suited  to  the  loveless  breast 
That  knows  not  peace,  that  cannot  rest, 
Embittered  by  a  song  of  hate: 
Impaled,  the  cross  shall  there  remain! 

[112] 


UNAFRAID 

A  BLAZE  with  light, 
•£*-  And  holding  to  her  breast 

A  precious  weight, 
The  river,  restive  from  the  tide, 
Upbears  a  nation's  armored  pride — 
A  fleet,  serene  at  rest, 

Insatiate 

At  bay,  and  belching  shot  and  shell 
As  if  the  very  powers  of  Hell 

Were  loosed.    Humanity 
May  count  upon  its  ready  aid : 
Its  voice  explosive,  unafraid, 

Upon  the  land  and  sea, 

Demands  the  right. 


[113] 


THE  TOCSIN 

tocsin  sounds,  and  every  breeze 
•*-    That  sweeps  the  earth  or  stirs  the  seas 
Is  pregnant  with  its  melodies: 
America  for  liberty 
And  suffering  humanity 
Unsheathes  the  sword:  with  all  her  might, 
Unflinchingly,  she  joins  the  fight 
To  curb  and  crush  autocracy 
And  prove  her  own  democracy: 
Her  blood  and  treasure  she  will  give 
That  others  too  may  work  and  live 
Untrammeled:  nothing  less  could  make 
Her  follow  in  the  gruesome  wake 
That  carnage  leaves:  and  nothing  more 
She  seeks,  except  to  pry  the  door 
Ajar  that  leads  to  law  and  right, 
Forever  keeping  day  and  night 
An  open  path  and  shining  light! 


April  6th,  1917. 


[114] 


CHATEAU-THIERRY 

T  TPON  the  sacred  soil  of  France 

*-'   Where    naught    had    stayed    the    Hun 

advance 

For  many  days  and  nights,  the  tread 
Of  troops  untried,  untiring,  led 
By  forces  spiritual,  sublime, 
Was  heard  afar,  in  measured  time. 
A  single  aim  impelled  each  breast 
That  journeyed  from  the  far-off  West — 
To  stem  a  plague — the  robber  band 
That  pillaged,  raped  and  raised  its  hand 
Against  the  laws  of  God  and  men; 
That  murdered  women,  maidens,  when 
Its  lust  was  satisfied;  that  knew 
No  law  but  force ;  that  even  slew 
The  helpless,  nursing  babes — the  Hun, 
A  beast  unspeakable!    Let  none 
Forget  his  many  deeds  of  shame! 
Unmindful  of  the  holy  flame 
That  blued  the  blade  of  liberty, 
He  boasted  that  democracy 
Would  never  risk  its  freedom  gained 
In  years  long  passed — so  long  maintained 
Without  a  struggle;  that  its  quest 
Was  ever  gain — unscarred  its  breast 
By  Fate  or  need,  it  could  not  fight, 
Untutored  and  afraid.    Their  might 
Was  heralded  to  every  clime, 
While  right,  a  stranger,  bode  its  time. 
At  Chateau-Thierry  soon  they  learned 
The  freeborn  men  of  peace  they  spurned; 

[115] 


And  as  their  lines  would  melt  away, 

And  every  effort  failed  to  stay 

The  irresistible  onslaught 

Of  decent,  fearless  foes,  they  sought 

A  refuge  by  a  swift  retreat — 

But  swifter  still  the  freemen's  feet 

Pursued,  until  aloud  they  cried 

To  get  an  armistice:  they  died 

In  masses  on  each  other  piled: 

The  woods  and  streams  were  all  defiled 

By  corpses  foul:  so  fast  they  fled 

They  would  not  pause  to  shroud  their  dead! 

America,  at  least,  in  part, 

Had  paid  her  debt  to  France:  her  heart 

And  blood  and  brain,  the  world  must  see 

Are  at  the  call  of  Liberty. 


[116] 


GLADSOME  GREETINGS 


A  WHIM 

TT  may  be  just  a  whim  of  mine, 

-*-    But  when  I  greet  the  New  Year  day, 

Before  me  stands  a  living  line 

Of  those  who  on  this  mundane  way 

Make  life  so  sweet:  the  spirits,  too, 

Of  friends  who,  silent,  tread  the  road 

That  all  must  learn,  in  this  review, 

Appear  from  that  unknown  abode, 

To  testify  that  love  remains 

Imperishable.     You  are  one 

Whose  image  clear  and  dear  obtains 

In  the  array  of  those  upon 

The  earth;  and  this  the  reason  why 

I  send  my  word  of  love  ahead, 

To  tell  you  so  before  we  lie 

Inanimate,  upon  our  bed. 


FANCY  KIND 

A    CHRISTMAS  thought 
•*•*•  Is  in  my  mind: 
It  was  not  sought, 
But  sent,  or  brought 
By  fancy  kind: 
A  Friendship  true 
For  yours,  and  you, 
This  blessed  day, 
Henceforth,  alway! 


[119] 


AWAKE!  ARISE! 

A  WAKE,  arise! 
•*"*•   The  swiftly  racing  earth 
Again  revolving,  brings 
The  day  beloved — the  birth 
Of  Christ — for  which  there  rings 
From  many  an  old  church  tower 
The  deep-toned  bells: 
Some  distant  dells 
With  cannons,  at  this  hour, 
Resound;  but  over  all, 
The  silent  spirit  call — 
The  voice  of  childhood — louder  still 
On  land  and  sea,  in  air  shall  fill 
Each  aching  heart  with  carolling 
How  death  itself  has  lost  its  sting 
Through  life  eternal:  then, 
The  human  ties  too  strong, 
May  dim  or  hush  the  song: 
The  respite  short,  again, 
To  arms,  he  cries! 


[120] 


A  LOVE  WORD 

time  is  here: 
Another  year 
Has  brought  the  happy  day 
For  children  all,  and  you 
And  me — let  none  gainsay 
That  we  are  children  too ! 
Away  with  care: 
Rejoice  and  share 
The  smile  contagious:  lend 
A  helping  hand — some  heart 
Is  bowed — a  love-word  send 
To  lift  the  load  in  part: 
For  hope  and  cheer, 
The  time  is  here! 


OLD  AND  NEW 

HHHE  old  year  dies,  the  new  year  brings 
•*-     Its  multitude  of  unborn  things 
That  may  or  may  not  make  for  peace: 
But  why  permit  the  faithful  heart 
To  be  disturbed  by  what  may  be? 
From  what  has  been,  we  have  release: 
Likewise,  the  days  that  shall  depart 
Must  solve  the  troubles  none  foresee: 
A  new  year,  on  the  tireless  wings 
Of  Time,  a  cheering  message  brings! 

[121] 


A  FEAR 

TTPON  me  sometimes  steals  a  fear 
^   That  when  I  send  a  word  of  cheer, 
At  intervals  of  just  one  year, 
You  may  this  crucial  fact  forget, 
That  any  day  I  have  not  met 
A  friend,  is  lost:  and  yet, 
You  ask  me;  How  can  this  be  true? 
Your  feelings  ought  to  answer  you — 
If  not,  no  word  of  mine  will  do, 
Because  the  Christmas  season  lends 
Its  charms  to  little  ones,  and  blends 
The  loving  thoughts  of  real  friends. 


THE  DAY 

A    NOTE  of  discord  and  unrest 
•^*-  May  mar  our  cheer; 
But,  every  year, 
There  is  a  day  supremely  blest 
When  hearts  attuned  in  rhythm  pulsate: 
Rejoice  and  sing 
With  carolling — 

That  day  of  days  propitious  Fate 
Proclaims!    Let  Peace 
Abide  and  sorrow  cease! 

[122] 


RING  THE  BELLS! 

FJING  the  bells! 

•••*•  The  guns  are  hushed, 
The  crowns  are  crushed. 
The  world  no  longer  weeps: 
Upon  the  earth  and  sea — 
In  air — the  misery 
Of  strife  and  anger  sleeps: 
Ring  the  bells! 

Ring  the  bells! 
The  cradle  time 
In  every  clime 
Is  here:  the  girls  and  boys 
Have  won  the  fight 
For  peace  and  right — 
Who  dares  curtail  their  joys? 

Ring  the  bells! 


[123] 


GOLDEN  GRAIN 

THHIS  greeting  speeds 
-•-     To  many  friends 
Of  many  creeds: 
The  season  tends 
A  tone  esthetic  to  the  joys 
That  thrill  the  hearts  of  girls  and  boys — 
When  grown-ups  too,  may  feel  again 
The  time  to  winnow  golden  grain — 
The  best  in  life: 
Away  with  care — 
The  day  is  rife 
With  blessings  rare ! 


YOUR  BIT 

TVTITHIN  your  heart  you  almost  know 
"  My  Christmas  fancies,  how  they  go 
This  year  compels  a  different  strain 
To  wing  my  message  once  again: 
Your  Country  reaches  out  to  aid 
The  human  race:  Be  not  afraid 
To  do  your  bit,  however  small— 
Our  Country  needs  the  help  of  all! 

[124] 


GERMAN  GLEANINGS 


BRIEF  ANSWER 

C  WEETHEART,  what  dost  thou,  the  live- 

^     long  day? 

Thousands  of  things. 

When  I  am  far,  what  feelest  thou,  say? 

Thousands  of  things. 

Make    a   confession — what    dreams    in    the 

night? 

Thousands  of  them. 
When  thou  hast  wakened,  what  says  the 

daylight? 

Thousands  of  things. 
Harborest  secretly  wishes,  tell? 
Thousands  of  them. 
Hast   thou   among   them   a   nook   where   I 

dwell? 
Thousands  of  them. 


AZURE  EYES 

"V7"OUR  eyes  of  blue,  so  still,  but  free, 

I  searched — their  depths  I  found: 
You  ask  me  what  it  is  I  see: 
I'm  healed  of  every  wound. 

That  pair  of  eyes  have  left  a  sear 
Whose  afterpains  still  rule; 
But  like  the  sea,  those  eyes  are  clear, 
And  like  the  sea,  so  cool! 


[127] 


DOST  RECALL? 

UNDER  the  linden  trees  blowing, 
Dost  recall? 
No  end  to  our  happiness  knowing, 

Nor  finding, 
First  thou  kissed  me, 
Then  I  kissed  thee, 
Perhaps,  honey  child,  it  was  sinful, 
But  sweet,  very  sweet,  was  it  not? 

Your  father  would  shout  to  the  bower- 
Dost  recall? 

We  kept  just  as  still  as  a  flower — 
He  could  call: 


PROPHET  AND  POET 

pROPHET,  pray  quickly  me  tell 

Why  flowers  and  children  together 
dwell : 

Pensive,  the  prophet  stroked  his  beard. 
Go  to  the  poet,  perhaps,  he  has  heard: 
Answer  me  poet,  and  hastily  say 
Why  flowers  and  children  together  stay: 
And  my  poet  thought  not  long: 
Finding  a  rhyme  with  pith  and  song, 
This  is  the  charm  of  blooms  and  child, 
That  neither  can  know  of  their  grace  unde- 

filed. 

0,  thank  you,  thank  you,  poet  mine, 
Your  words  so  sweet  my  heart  entwine. 

[128] 


AFTER  HEINE 

"MIGHT  rested  on  my  eye  lids, 
•^    My  mouth  was  sealed  by  lead, 
My  brain  and  heart  were  frigid, 
The  ground  my  grave,  my  bed. 

How  long  the  time,  I  know  not, 
That  sleep  held  me  a  slave: 
At  last,  I  wakened,  hearing 
A  knocking  on  my  grave. 

When  wilt  thou  rise,  my  Heinrich? 
It  is  the  judgment  morn; 
The  dead  are  all  arisen, 
Eternal  joy  is  born. 

I  cannot  rise,  my  loved  one, 
The  light  no  more  I  see: 
Mine  eyes  from  ceaseless  weeping 
Are  blind  entirely. 

For  thee,  I'll  kiss,  dear  Heinrich, 
The  night  from  out  thine  eyes, 
And  thou  shalt  see  the  angels, 
And  splendor  of  the  skies. 

I  cannot  rise,  my  darling, 
Still  bleeds  my  heart  so  free, 
Where,  by  a  word  too  bitter, 
It  once  was  pierced  by  thee. 

I'll  rest  my  hand,  my  Heinrich, 
But  lightly  on  thy  heart, 
And  stop  the  flow  forever, 
And  heal  the  wounded  part. 


(129] 


I  cannot  rise,  my  dearest, 
My  head  wounds  bleed — just  see 
The  hole  my  bullet  furrowed, 
When  thou  wast  torn  from  me. 

With  my  own  curls,  dear  Heinrich, 
I'll  fill  thy  head's  deep  wound, 
And  staunch  the  flowing  blood-stream 
Until  relief  be  found. 

So  soft  she  plead,  so  loving 
I  could  no  more  refrain, 
And  strove  to  lift  my  body, 
To  join  my  love  again. 

Then  gaped  my  wounds  wide  open; 
The  spurting  vessels  take 
From  head  and  heart  the  blood-stream- 
And  lo!  I  am  awake! 


FOLKSONG 

TJ77HEN  I  walk  in  the  garden  early, 

"     Wearing  my  bonnet  green, 
I  am  first  thinking  merely, 
What  now  my  love  may  glean. 

In  heaven  dwells  no  star 
That  I  my  friend  would  envy: 
My  heart  I  would  not  bar, 
If  I  could  tear  it  from  me. 


[130] 


THE  WITCHSONG 
(Ernst  von  Wildenbruch) 

T  Herzfeld  abbey,  the  prior  told 
How   brother   Medardus,   grown    weak 
and  old, 

Could  scarcely,  he  thought,  outlive  the  day: 
"Haste,  brother  confessor,"  said  he,  "away 
And  bid  him  confess  his  sins  to  thee, 
Although  I  know  that  few  they  be: 
The  cloister  fifty  years  to-day 
He  serves,  and  in  its  shades  grew  gray: 
By  fasts  and  penitences  he, 
Prepared,  awaits  eternity: 
Of  all,  he  is  the  holiest 
And  will  th'  Almighty  please  the  best." 
The  priest  then  knocked  at  Medardus' 

door — 

A  silence  answered,  nothing  more: 
The  confessor  crossed  the  threshold  well 
And  strode  within  Medardus'  cell: 
And  hour  on  hour  the  hours  fared; 
Amazed,  the  monks  in  wonder  stared: 
"Medardus,  blameless  in  words  and  acts — 
What  can  he  reveal  about  sinful  facts?" 

The  vesper  bells,  with  muffled  call 

To  chapel  summoned  brothers  all : 

They  bowed  their  heads,  they  knelt  around, 

For  brother  Medardus  low  prayers 

resound — 

But  list!  there  comes  from  far  away 
A  pitiful  voice  in  a  mournful  lay. 

[131] 


Up  rose  the  prior  from  the  ground: 
The  monks  gave  ear  with  care  profound. 
"In  Medardus'  cell  the  song  is  ringing — 
It  is  Medardus  who  is  singing!" 
They  heard  and  asked:  What  can  that  be? 
Those  are  not  prayers  and  litany: 
That  sounds  like  sinful,  worldly  prate: 
And  see!  and  see!  within  the  gate 
The  confessor  hastes,  by  terror  pressed! 
"The  Devil  is  the  cloister  guest! 
Medardus  to  the  Tempter  fell — 
Medardus  feels  the  clutch  of  Hell!" 
The  prior  lit  the  holy  wand 
And  held  the  candle  in  his  hand: 
The  monks,  with  tapers  lit,  beside 
The  prior  walked,  with  measured  stride: 
The  walls  and  halls  re-echoing  rang 
The  plaintive  chant  the  brothers  sang: 
"From  sinful  lust,  from  Satan's  might, 
By  grace  protect  us,  God  of  Light." 

The  cell  was  open — white,  haggard,  thin, 

Medardus  lay  on  a  poor  cot  within, 

His  folded  hands  in  fervent  prayer, 

His  eyes  with  livid  fire  aglare: 

From  stammering,  quivering  lips,  a  song 

Unending,  wild,  was  forced  along: 

A  song  so  strange,  a  song  forlorn, 

Of  longing  love,  of  blasphemous  scorn — 

As  if  from  far-off  lands  the  air 

Brought  perfumes  captivating,  rare: 

It  was  a  song  unlike  a  note 

That  ever  came  from  human  throat — 

[132] 


A  wail  of  woe — then  frenzied  zest, 

With  terror,  rapture  filled  each  breast. 

The  monks  their  holy  candles  waved: 

"Fly,  Satan,  let  his  soul  be  saved!" 

Their  crosses  swayed,  their  censers  swung — 

Medardus  all  the  wilder  sung; 

And  deep  each  heart  atremble  rang 

The  sinful  song  Medardus  sang. 

On   the   monks   there   stole  like  a  longing 

dread 

A  deep,  gnawing  grief  for  their  lives  misled : 
They  thought  of  the  things  they  now  had 

not, 

Of  the  days  of  their  youth  long  since  forgot ; 
And  slower,  still  slower  the  sound  of  the 

choir — 
Then  silence — they  listened,  enthralled  by 

his  fire. 

The  prior,   pious,  zealous,  and  gray, 
With  horror  filled,  stood  looking  his  way: 
To  brother  Medardus  he  called  in  a  tone 
In  which  righteous  wrath  was  plainly 

shown : 

"Wouldst  thou  the  brothers  lead  astray? 
Begone,  damned  soul,  to  Hell  away!" 
And  see!  from  his  cot,  Medardus  arise! 
A  luminous  glint  his  face  glorifies, 
His  vacant  eyes  at  distance  stare, 
As  if  by  a  vision  enraptured  there: 
Then,  suddenly,  tears  down  his  cheeks 

streaming  ran: 
To  the  brothers  Medardus  to  speak  began: 

[133] 


"I  once  was  a  priest,  was  pious  like  you, 

Devoutly  I  read  my  breviary  too, 

With  a  fear  and  a  fervor  that  rose  to  a 

flood, 
For  young  were  my  limbs,  and  hot  was  my 

blood : 

The  flaxen  locks  hung  down  from  my  head 
As  if  streams  of  gold  were  overspread; 
And  when  first  they  did  my  tonsuring, 
It  was  like  they  mowed  the   meadows   in 

Spring. 

That  was  the  time  when  our  native  land 
Was  held  in  the  grip  of  Satan's  hand : 
To  lives  of  shame  the  women  were  turned, 
And  witches  were  bound  at  the  stake  and 

burned. 

That  time,  there  came,  as  I  sat  there, 
In  the  dead  of  night,  my  lamp  aglare, 
A  rap  on  my  door,  a  knock,  a  shout — 
'We   need  you,   father,   make   haste,   come 

out!' 

The  night  was  dark,  and  hollow  the  squall 
As  I  was  led  to  a  bastion  wall 
Deep    under    the    earth,    down    a    slippery 

flight, 

Till  it  seemed  that  Hell  must  heave  in  sight. 
A  torch  within  my  hand  was  placed; 
In  a  wall  of  stone,  a  hole  I  faced: 
'A  witch  to-morrow,  in  fire  aglow, 
Atones  for  her  sins:  to  her  now  go: 
A  blessed  death  for  her  prepare, 
And  save  her  sinful  soul  by  prayer!' 
The  bowels  of  the  earth  I  sought, 

[134] 


And  in  my  throat  my  breath  was  caught: 

From  somewhere  came  a  grating  sound 

Of  clanking  chains,  and  grief  profound; 

And  in  the  darkest  corner  lay, 

As  in  its  lair  a  beast  of  prey, 

A  woman  cowering  and  bent, 

Her  head  against  the  damp  wall  leant: 

The  torch  I  fastened  to  a  rung 

That  from  the  ceiling,  hanging,  swung: 

'Thy  face  upon  me  turn,'  I  said: 

'Come,  sister,  here,  be  not  afraid.' 

I  saw  how  her  ear  my  greetings  drank — 

How  hand  after  hand  from  her  face  she 

sank: 

Her  head  she  turned,  then  looked  to  see, 
And  on  her  knees  she  crawled  to  me: 
Her  naked  arms  my  knees  embrace, 
Her  eyes  are  rooted  on  my  face: 
I  looked  down,  the  torch,  with  dancing  light, 
Illumined  her  beautiful  face  outright: 
I  felt  my  heart  melt,  warmed  by  hers — 
My  eyes  were  filled  with  scalding  tears; 
My  lips  were  mute,  as  pity  crept, 
And  silent,  sobbing,  we  both  wept; 
And  when  my  tears  she  saw,  at  last, 
With  trembling  arms,  she  held  me  fast; 
A  sob  deep  of  her  bosom  sprang, 
From  stammering  lips  a  whisper  rang: 
'Thou  canst  still  weep?     Thou  weepest  for 

me? 

As  I  love  the  good  Saviour,  I  love  also  thee.' 
I  was  seized  by  fright  at  her  words  of  dis 
grace  : 

[135] 


'Recall  the  hour:  remember  the  place 
Thy  body  to-morrow  in  flames  shall  burn: 
Repent,  confess,  to  Heaven  turn!' 
With  startled  mien  she  said  to  me: 
'Why  must  I  repent?    From  guilt  I  am  free. 
My  parents  are  dead:  alone  in  a  dell, 
With  grandmother,  I  was  wont  to  dwell: 
My   grandmother   knew    many    herbs   that 

cure, 

And  many  a  potion  prepared  for  the  poor: 
But  grandmother,  bound  at  the  stake,  was 

burned 

As  a  devil's  witch — so  I  have  learned. 
An  ancient  song  my  grandmother  sang, 
I  learned  from  her  lips,  so  sweetly  it  rang: 
She  told  me  it  came  from  a  far-away  land 
Whose  people  love-magic  could  understand: 
I  sang  it,  but  knew  not  its  meaning:  then 
I  was  seized  by  the  hands  of  heartless  men 
And  thrown  into  prison — this  dungeon  cell: 
They  said  that  it  was  the  worm  of  Hell 
That  sang  out  of  me  to  corrupt  the  race: 
So  to-morrow  I  burn  at  the  stake  in  dis 
grace.' 

Her  tremulous  lips  to  my  ear  closely  press, 
Her  eye  is  imploring,  in  fright  and  distress; 
On  mine  her  heaving  bosom  lies — 
'Oh,  save  me!'   said  she.     'Oh,   save  me!' 

she  cries: 

'To  live  is  so  sweet,  and  death  is  so  dire, 
And  dreadful  the  anguish  to  perish  by  fire: 
No  creature  have  I  offended  or  grieved, 

[136] 


No   sin  have   I  done,   nor  witchcraft   con 
ceived  : 

The  hearts  of  men  are  just  like  stone, 
But  thou  art  good,  thou  still  canst  moan: 
The  jailer  sleeps,  the  door  is  free, 
Come,  let  me  fly,  and  fly  with  me! 
We'll  tread  so  softly  that  none  may  hear, 
The  torch   we   shall   smother,   no   light  to 

fear; 

The  turret  gate  leads  out  to  the  field, 
No  one  can  see,  to  none  must  we  yield: 
When  break  of  day  the  cocks  have  told, 
We  shall  be  far  away,  in  the  distant  wold: 
The  forest  is  dark,  the  trees  are  dense, 
I  know  a  place  that  no  one  shall  sense: 
I  know  a  region — the  very  spot 
A  treasure  lies  hidden  and  long  forgot: 
We  shall  search  and  find  it:   thou'lt  take 

it  away, 

Afar  we  shall  fly,  and  there  we  will  stay, 
In  a  foreign  land,  just  thou  with  me, 
And  ever  and  ever,  just  I  with  thee. 
No   wife   to   thy   heart   hast   thou   clasped 

in  caress, 
Nor   knowest   how  love  of   a  woman  may 

bless : 

Richer  the  love  that  thou  shalt  know 
Than  any  man  on  earth,  I  trow: 
The  stars  are  fading,  the  hours  race  by, 
It  is  time,  it  is  time!    Oh,  come,  let  us  fly!' 

Her  heated  breath  like  the  storm-wind  blew, 
Her  white  arms  round  my  neck  she  threw; 

[137] 


Her  hair  as  dark  as  the  wings  of  night, 
Her  limbs  encircled,  voluptuous  sight! 
With  reeling  head  and  with  writhing  heart, 
Ecstatic,  lustful  passions  start; 
I  bent  lower  down,  her  kisses  I  sought, 
Then,   trembling,   I   felt   as   if  back   again 

brought : 
'Thou   kissest   a   witch,   thou   blessest   her 

crime : 
No  share  in  God's  favor  hast  thou  for  all 

time.' 

The  word  upon  my  lips  was  dead: 
I  flung  her  from  my  heart  and  fled, 
By  terror  driven  from  her  dwelling — 
Her  screams  with  despair  and  grief  were 

welling : 

She  fell  to  the  earth,  she  lay  on  the  stones, 
And  after  me  followed  her  sobs  and  her 

groans : 

But  I  fled  on,  out  into  the  night, 
On  my  knees  in  prayer,  awake  until  light, 
Till  the  night  had  passed,  till  the  horror 

was  born — 
And  the  horror  came  at  the  break  of  dawn. 

The  heaven  blazed  with  morning  flame, 
The  people  swarming,  hurrying  came: 
In  a  field  far  out,  where  logs  were  massed, 
The  stake  stood  dark,  by  gloom  o'ercast — 
And  every  eye  was  fixed  on  the  pyre — 
There  stood  she,  awaiting  her  torture  by 
fire. 

[138] 


Like  fluttering  birds  lost  out  at  sea, 

So  shifted  her  eyes  round  anxiously; 

Then  nearer,  with  crucifix  I   drew — 

Her  searching  gaze  held  me  in  view — 

And  see!  and  see,  how  furtively 

Her  head  she  bows,  slightly  nodding  to  me, 

A  smile  her  lovely  face  upon, 

Like  the  fading  light  of  the  setting  sun! 

The  flaming  brand  the  torchman  swung, 
Her  languorous  eyes  on  mine  were  hung; 
The  flames  the  branches  dry  wrapped  round, 
Her  staring  eyes  held  me  spell-bound: 
Like  dust  disturbed,  the  sparklets  shivered, 
Like  falling  leaves,  her  two  lips  quivered; 
And  shortly,  asudden,  I  heard  a  ringing 
From  burning  brush — she  had  started  sing 
ing! 

Like  Spring  showers  rustling  in  the  night, 
So  gripped  me  her  song,  with  its  sweet, 

blessed  might; 

As  if  air  exotic  from  alien  blooms 
Had  borrowed  and  brought  their  rich  per 
fumes  : 
As  though,  said  a  voice  in  my  ear,  thou 

shalt  never 

Enjoy  the  delights  thou  hast  lost  forever. 
The  flames  enveloped  her  naked  feet, 
She  gave  a  last  greeting — a  nod  discrete: 
The  black  smoke  rising  around  her  swirled, 
Her  pitiful  song  with  the  smoke  was 
whirled : 

[139] 


(Deep  roared  the  flames  to  heaven  spring 
ing, 

Like  tremulous  bells,  she  kept  up  her  sing 
ing) 

My  ears  with  both  my  hands  defending, 
That  singing!   that  singing!     When  is  it 

ending?' 
I  turned  with  a  shudder  and  fled  from  the 

spot — 
That  heart-breaking  voice  would  leave  me 

not: 
Wherever    I    hastened,    and    whence    sped 

away, 

That  song,  that  song,  was  with  me  alway; 
And  whether  asleep  or  awake  in  prayer, 
All  day,  all  night,  and  everywhere 
Since  then — it  is  fifty  years  to-day— 
I  hear  it  forever  and  ever  stay!" 

(Medardus  looked  wild  and  arose  from  his 
cot.) 

'*!  hear  her  again:  perceive  ye  it  not? 

Up  the  walk,  through  the  door,  it  draweth 
near! 

She  treads  on  the  threshold — is  here!  is 
here! 

Thou  woman  pure — a  witch  so  they  claim, 

Thou  lovely  form  that  they  branded  with 
shame, 

Ye  luscious  lips,  ye  eyes  languid,  tender, 

Thou  sweet,  welling  bloom  of  limbs  sport 
ive,  slender, 

Thou  rapturous  bliss,  once  offered  to  me, 

[140] 


Which,  disdaining,  I  thrust  into  Eternity, 
Thou  offerest  the  blessing  my  crime  cast 

aside, 

For  me,  heaven's  door  thou  openest  wide: 
After  fifty  years  of  penance  and  pain, 
I  come  and  forever  with  thee  shall  remain!" 

He    raised   up   his    arms — his    limbs    rigid 

stay: 

"Medardus  is  dead,"  the  brothers  low  say: 
They  knelt  in  a  circle:  the  gray  dawn  broke 
Through  the  windows — the  prior  spoke: 
"What  human  eyes  cannot  grasp  nor  see, 
To  One  above  shall  manifest  be: 
It  is  he  that  hath  said,  'Judgment  is  mine.' 
Go  brothers,  pray:  to  judge  is  not  thine!" 


[141] 


L'ENVOI 

A    FIRE  smouldering  in  my  heart, 
**  Has  slowly  burned  for  many  years; 
It  has  a  message  to  impart 
Of  life  and  death,  of  joy  and  tears: 
And  in  the  midst  of  many  fears 
Of  critics  with  envenomed  dart, 
Has  never  burst  into  a  flame, 
But  goes  on  smouldering  just  the  same, 
Awaiting,  possibly,  some  art 
To  give  its  message  to  the  world: 
Or  does  it  wait  to  find  a  name 
Which,  when  emblazoned  and  unfurled 
Will  be  so  plain  that  all  must  see 
And  call  the  outburst  Poesy! 


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